The Seven Wise Princesses Stories
by yaoi'sokay
Summary: Once upon a time, there were seven very wise and beautiful princesses who each told a very special tale about: greed, secrets, honesty, determination, trust, goodness and love. Read these tales and learn their lessons well. These are the stories of the Seven Wise Princesses (with some familiar characters playing the starring roles) Major AU
1. The Rajah Who Dressed In Black

_The following stories you are about to read are a set of Persian fairy tales from a real book known as 'The Seven Wise Princesses' by Wafa' Tarnowska. If you are fond of fairy tales that teach an important lesson and you happen to see this book in a shop somewhere, I definitely recommend that you pick it up._

 _Original Stories are from 'The Seven Wise Princesses' by Wafa' Tarnowska_

 _Winx Club belongs to Iginio Straffi_

 _The picture was made by me and can be found on my Deviantart page 'Autumnarie'._

* * *

 **The Rajah Who Dressed in Black**

 _Told on Monday by the Indian Princess in the Black Pavilion of Saturn_

* * *

Once, there was a powerful Rajah in the land of Gardenia named Ogron, who became known as the Rajah Who Dressed in Black. He wasn't always known by this name, in fact he was once called the Congenial Rajah as he enjoyed having guests, always arranging feasts and having magnificent carpets spread out under their feet.

The banquets he threw were bigger than any ever witnessed, succulent meats, delicious vegetables, sweet fruits and goblets filled with only the finest wine would line the tops of the tables and after a hearty meal, Rajah Ogron and his guests would lay in front of a warm fire and trade stories of many great and wonderful things. Some guests would speak of marvellous treasures they had found, some would speak of far away lands they had visited and exotic people that they had met and others would tell epic tales of war and conquest. Ogron had relished these tales and the company from which they came and to show his satisfaction in life, he wore robes of red and yellow.

For years, this was the way that he lived, ruling his Empire, entertaining guests and hearing their wonderful tales, but one morning, just before his guests of the day arrived, the Rajah had slipped away in secret from his palace.

The servants were frantic! They searched everywhere for him: The gardens, the treasury, his throne room, the town, his bedroom and even the palace roof. Yet not hide nor hair of their Rajah could be found. His friends questioned the viziers and counsellors but even they could not say where he had gone.

A year passed with no sign of Rajah Ogron, then just as suddenly as he had disappeared, he returned, looking very sad. His playful smirk, his red and yellow robes, his brightly coloured turban; gone.

He was, from head to toe, completely dressed in black.

He continued to rule wisely as he had before but he no longer invited visitors, banquets were no longer prepared nor were carpets spread out. No more tales were told, laughter ceased to echo the halls and the atmosphere dulled to a depressing fog.

Puzzled greatly and mildly concerned, Rajah Ogron's three advisors and closest friends, Anagan, Duman and Gantlos, decided that enough was enough and approached the Rajah as he was eating dinner.

"Rajah Ogron, why do you never invite anyone for banquets anymore? Why do you insist on isolating yourself?" Gantlos began.

"Rajah Ogron, why do you always wear black? Why do you always wear that sad face when you lie in the lap of luxury?" Anagan continued

"Please Rajah Ogron, we are your friends, surely you trust us enough to tell us what you saw on your journey that made you change so?" Duman finished with a pleading tone in his voice.

Slowly, Ogron raised his head as if weary and smiled sadly at his subjects.

"Anagan, Duman, Gantlos, you are my dearest friends and I trust you with my very life." The Rajah spoke after many days of silence. "I see that you are concerned for me and it warms my heart to know that. So to show how much I trust you, I shall tell you my story and answer all of your questions. Sit by my side if you please, for this is a somewhat lengthy tale. Are you comfortable? Good. Now listen and learn. My story begins one year and one month ago, when I received a most curious guest..."

* * *

Back when I was a free spirited man, there came a day where I had so few guests to entertain, one of which was a mysterious elderly man, who dressed head to foot in black, just as I am now. The other guests came and went with lovely stories to share, but my thoughts and eyes constantly drifted over to the old man in black, who simply stared into his cup of wine as if it held all the secrets of the world.

"What could his story be?" I wondered, "Why wear such a sad expression and such dark clothes in such a bright and happy atmosphere."

At long last, it was his turn to speak his story came, but he refused to say anything.

"Sir, why do you wear clothes that are pitch black?" I asked him, making sure to smile, I wanted to make sure that my guest felt welcome after all.

"I do not wish to speak of it, Sire." He declined my query politely, never looking me in the eye.

"Please speak, I would love to know." I pressed.

"You must excuse me," He replied quietly, "Only those who wear the clothes I do know the secret behind the colour black"

I would not be so easily swayed by the man's defensive words.

"Tell me your secret then!"

Once again, he excused himself.

I refused to give up and I pressed him constantly, wanting the answers I so desperately sought. At last, he finally saw that I would not take no for an answer and relented.

"Far away from here, there is a city called Stupfield. Its people are as white as the moon and their clothes are as black as the sky on a starless night. Whoever visits this city always ends up wearing black. I cannot tell you any more than that, now if you will excuse me, I must go."

So saying the man stood up and left and I never saw him again. Now, more puzzled than ever before, I found myself thinking of it constantly, I could not sleep, eat or concentrate on anything, my mind was plagued by the mystery behind the colour black and the City of Stupfield.

Finally, I decided that I'd had enough and decided to look for it right then and there.

I told no one of my decision, no one would understand my desire to know the truth. So I took a few robes, several servants and plenty of treasure, and off I went to find the city where everyone wore black.

It didn't take long at all, it wasn't even difficult to find but everything the old man said was true; the people's skin was as white as milk and they were all clothed in black. I rented a house and for almost a whole year I searched for someone who would tell me the secret behind the colour black, but everyone I asked would just shake their head and say I'm better off not knowing.

Then one day I met a butcher named Klaus who was so friendly and jolly that I decided to become friends with him. "I will shower him with gifts and riches to win his confidence" I told myself, "then surely he will tell me the secret I have been searching for."

So I became friends with Klaus, the butcher, the only friendly person in the sullen city and each day. I would present him a new gift: be it a bejeweled dagger, a lacquered box, a diamond ring. You name it, I would give it to him wholeheartedly.

One evening, Klaus invited me to his simple home for a delicious feast of all kinds of meat. He offered me everything my stomach could ever desire but not what my heart and mind needed. We talked about this, that and a little bit of everything, but all I wanted was to know the secret of black.

Many hours later the kind butcher said, "Dear boy, I don't know who you are or why you are here, for all I see is a generous heart and a worried face. What do you want from a poor old butcher like me? And why have you given me all of your riches?"

So touched by his honesty was I, that I told him of the black clad stranger that I met and how I had searched for almost a whole year for someone who would tell me the reason why everyone in the city of Stupfield wore mourning clothes.

By the time I had finished my story, Klaus' usually jolly face with reddened cheeks was as pale as the faces of the black clad people outside.

Finally, he spoke, "You could have asked me anything, my friend," he said with the sound of regret in his voice, "My life, my shop, my daughter's hand - anything but the secret of this poor city." He looked me in the eye "But you have taken so much trouble to find out, so I shall do what is possible." Then he stood and took me by the hand, leading me outside.

Not a soul was about. The darkness was so thick that I could barely see in front of me. Suddenly, after what felt like an eternity of blindly following the kind butcher, I bumped into something. I was a large basket attached to a rope that extended high above me and into the gloom.

"Climb in," Klaus ushered me into the basket "And good luck!" I had no time to ponder the meaning behind his words for the moment I stepped into the basket, the rope was pulled upwards by an unseen force, up and up it went, as if by magic. At first it seemed like it would never stop but after a while, it did, at the very top of a mountain.

I looked back down the way I came. The basket I rode to this place was nowhere to be seen and the way down was very long and if I were to jump, I would surely die. So there I stood, alone and high in the sky with nowhere to go, so I did the only thing I _could_ do; I waited.

I sat alone, shivering with the cold, a little afraid and waited all night.

At long last dawn arrived, the few rays of the sun that peeked over the edge of the mountains that lined the horizon warmed the air. Then suddenly, as if out of nowhere, a huge bird appeared and flew towards the mountain on which I was placed. The great bird didn't even spare a glance my way, it simply nestled itself atop the mountain, close enough for me to reach out and touch, and promptly fell into slumber.

Once the great creature was asleep, I thought quickly, the only way out, I told myself, was to cling to the bird's talons and go wherever it takes me, what other options were there? So I tied myself to the beast's claws and waited patiently.

Sure enough, at cockcrow, the giant bird awoke with an earthshaking cry and spread its magnificent wings, taking to the sky immediately with me hanging onto it for dear life.

It flew high and far, drifting from morning till noon, until, tired from the heat and the long journey, it swooped down and landed on a field to rest. I quickly let go of the bird's feet and I ran as far away from it as I could, until I could run no more.

I collapsed from exhaustion, thanking every god and goddess I knew off the top of my head for my survival and looked up to survey the fields that I had landed upon. What I saw was not simply a mere field but a beautiful garden! The grass felt like silk, hyacinths, roses and jasmine grew from between the blades and I was surrounded by cypress and pine trees. Nearby, a beautiful turquoise stream surrounded by gently waving poplar trees bubbled and laughed while little silver fish shone like mercury in the waters. Truly, I was in paradise.

Around the garden I went, the cool water from the stream revitalizing me with but a sip, and I ate the delicious fruits and enjoyed the mixed aroma of the many flowers that surrounded me until, tired but absolutely content, I laid on the soft grass underneath a beautiful cypress and drifted away into the land of dreams.

Many hours later, I awoke to a gentle rain that fell like rose petals on my face. Darkness had already descended upon the garden. Several moments of blissful silence passed. Then suddenly, in the distance I saw many lights glittering in the night. My heart filled with fear as they came closer, what were they? Were they evil demons coming to defile the gardens beauty? Were they the owners of the garden who have come to kill me for trespassing?

I had no answers to my questions, so I hid behind one of the trees and waited. Finally, the lights illuminated a procession of beautiful woman, each bearing a candle. Their beauty was unparalleled! Their hair was a smooth as silk, their eyes were like brightly glittering jewels, their lips were the colour of rubies and jewels, gold and silk adorned their bodies. These were not ordinary mortal woman, these beautiful creatures were Houris, close relatives of the fairies.

With the grace of swans and the charm of a flute, they advanced, carrying pillows, carpets, footrests, plates of many types of food, jars of wine and many musical instruments on their heads, preparing themselves for a wonderful feast.

"Ah," I thought to myself, "these Houris must have a queen!" And I was right. Once the preparations were complete and everything was in place she appeared, flanked by a raven haired Houri clad in violet, another black haired Houri dressed in green who towered over them both and a little gold coloured dog padding loyally close to the queen.

The Houri queen, who was more beautiful than the sun, placed herself upon her throne and listened to the music that flowed from her subject fingers and lips and watched the others dance like petals in a gentle wind with a smile. After a while, she turned to her violet clad friend and said with a voice of honey, "Dearest Nebula, do you sense what I sense? A human is hiding in our garden, would you mind fetching him for me?"

The lovely Houri named Nebula searched all over until she found me crouched behind the tree. Without an ounce of fear or shyness, she declared, "Arise, human man. The queen of queens awaits your arrival."

Without a word, I followed her back to the feast and stood before the queen. I was shocked to silence, she was so much more beautiful up close. Her hair was the colour of raspberries and the ends appeared to have been dipped in gold, her eyes were a deep violet and her skin was like porcelain, gold bangles adorned her wrists and a bejeweled necklace traced her neck.

Without a word, I bowed so low that the ends of my ruby coloured hair brushed the floor but the lovely queen only laughed. "No need for that, dear man." She reached out and took my hand. "Come sit next to me and share my meal."

A tray was brought forward, full of the most delicious foods in ruby bowls, whatever my stomach desired appeared on my plate. The cupbearer brought forward a drink that tasted of blackberries and cherries dipped in syrup. The Houris danced and sang like birds. I leaned toward the queen and asked "Your Majesty, what is your name? What is this wondrous place?"

"My name is Roxy, queen of the Houris and this place is the Houris Garden, where all wishes come true."

"Might I wish a kiss from your ruby lips?" I asked with a charming smile.

"Not tonight, Rajah, not tonight," she replied, "You may kiss any of my maidens but you will have to wait to kiss me."

I returned to my spot, dejected and sad. I continued to enjoy the beautiful music, the Houris lovely dancing and the heavenly food, but my heart was set on stealing a kiss from the beautiful queen's lips.

Day after day, I walked in the garden, listening to the birds, eating the delicious fruits and dreaming of the night that was to come. Night after night I would experience the same pleasures, and the same tortures. I ate the most delicious of foods, listened to the most soothing music and watched the most graceful dances but I was never allowed to kiss the radiant queen.

For twenty-nine nights, I asked the same question to the queen "May I kiss you tonight?" and every time, she would reply, "Impatience is the vice of slaves, Rajah Ogron. Be patient and you will be rewarded a thousand times." She would then point to one of her many maidens and say, "You can kiss her if you want, but you cannot kiss me yet."

Every night I would kiss a new Houri, but my heart was forever set the queen. For nothing is more delicious than forbidden sweets, don't you agree? There I was living in literal paradise, yet I wanted more. How greedy humans can be!

On the thirtieth day, I decided not to take 'No' for an answer any long. I plotted all day on how to have my way with the loveliest of lovelies.

Night came at last, bringing with it the lovely Houris and their radiant queen, when the wine started to flow and the music began to play, I leaned towards the object of my affections and said in a low voice "Tonight is the night, my queen, I shall taste the sweet honey of your lips."

A brief look of disdain flashed on her face but was replaced quickly by her coy smile, and she replied, "One more night of your patience is all I ask, tomorrow this treasure will be yours." but the night seemed to go on forever, the food tasted bland, the music began to sound lackluster and my patience was wearing thin.

"Why must I wait a whole night and day?" I asked myself. "What is this talk of impatience being the vice of slaves? I am a Rajah, not a slave! Rajah's are allowed to do whatever they please!"

So I stood up and, without so much as a 'May I?' or 'please' I closed my eyes and leaned towards the beautiful Roxy and pressed my lips against her ruby ones.

Alas, the moment I touched those magical lips without permission, I found myself back in the basket at the top of the mountain, Klaus the butcher waving at me. The basket descended and when it finally reached the bottom, I stepped out, and promptly fell to my knees in despair.

The butcher shook his head sadly "Now you see, my boy," he placed a hand upon my shoulder. "All the people in the city of Stupfield have been there before you. That is why we wear black, to remind ourselves of our foolish impatience." I said nothing, the butcher's warm hand on my shoulder provided no comfort; my sadness was too great.

At last I stood, I turned to Klaus and asked him to take me back to the town. Once we arrived, I ordered myself a set of black robes, the people of Stupfield saw me and looked at me with sympathy in their eyes, for they too, knew the pain I had suffered all too well.

So with a heavy heart and all of my answers, I returned home in my black robes, gave all of my old robes to the poor and ordered that my guesthouse to be closed. I turned my mind to the matters of my country and continued to rule, not as the Congenial Rajah but as the Rajah Dressed in Black.

* * *

The Rajah finished his tale with a bowed head. "I lost an entire paradise in a moment of folly and greed." He raised his head and looked at his advisors with sadness in his eyes. "I pray that you all have learned the lesson that I had that fateful day. Please do not make the same mistake as I had." With that, Ogron stood and retired to his chambers for the night.

Anagan, Duman and Gantlos all sat in silence even long after Ogron had left, touched by the story their Rajah had told, and came to a silent agreement. They too, shall wear black like their Rajah and remember with grief, how their dear friend had lost paradise and love, in a moment of impatience.

* * *

 **When you think about it.**

 **Black is the colour the sky on a dark night**

 **Black is the colour of young hair, while the colour of old hair is grey**

 **Your pupils - through which you see and learn about the world - are also black**

 **Black is not just the colour of mourning.**


	2. The Emir Who Did Not Want To Marry

**The Emir Who Did Not Want To Marry**

 _Told on Sunday by the Greek Princess in the Yellow Pavillion of the Sun_

* * *

Once upon a time, in the land of Eraklyon, there lived a very powerful Emir, who was so rich that he couldn't count his money. His name was Sky. His hair was as gold as a field of wheat and his eyes were the colour of his namesake, he had everything his heart could have ever wanted: sumptuous palaces, thoroughbred horses, rich carpets, finely gilded swords. He had everything he could desire, except for one thing. Emir Sky had no wife, nor did he want one.

"Why would such a rich and handsome man not want a wife to match his beauty?" Many people would ask. They did not know the truth, the truth that Emir Sky was simply terrified being married because of what the greatest astrologers in the kingdom had said when he was born.

Back then, astrologers were as powerful as kings and were just as respected, as they could look to the heavens and find the outline of ones future in the stars. When Sky was born, they had predicted and argued that he would be rich, handsome, strong, intelligent, loved and respected but they all agreed on one thing: that the young Emir should never marry, for if he did, he would spend his life fighting his wife.

Upon hearing such grim news, the Emir promised to them and himself that he would never marry, for he enjoyed the peace and quiet in his home and life.

For twenty years, he lived without a wife beside him, many women would propose to him, but he would always turn them down. Even if the astrologers were wrong, the women who threw themselves at him were so dislikeable that he wouldn't have married them anyway.

So he lived alone until one day, he could stand it no longer. He summoned his chief servant, Thoren, and he said, "Thoren, go to the slave market in town and find me the kindest and most beautiful slave girl there to be my bride."

And find one he did and the Emir was, for a while, happy with his lovely wife but, after several weeks she had changed completely. The once patient and modest lady had become rude, impatient and greedy. She would order servants around, demanding more expensive clothes and jewelry to be given to her every day, and she became lazy and grouchy. So the Emir sent her back to the slave merchant and demanded that a new one be sent to him.

One after the other, slave girls would come and go, and Emir Sky would keep searching in vain for that rare pearl: a woman who would be loving, patient and kind, not only to him but to everyone she met, who would not argue, shout and demand that jewels, gowns and even whole towns to be given to her!

What was the reason for the horrendous changes in these kind women and the bad luck that Emir Sky had with them, you may ask. The reason wasn't too hard to find or believe.

In the deepest part of the castle, there was a servant girl named Diaspro, who long ago had attempted to seduce Sky but had been rejected outright by him. So, out of spite and simply wanting to hurt the Emir in any way possible, she would secretly visit the slave girl he had at the time while he was busy and would start planting ideas into her head.

"You should be treated like a Queen, not a slave," she would whisper with her evil breath. "You should demand a ruby encrusted crown, a pearl necklace or a golden gown, it is the very least you deserve."

No wonder the slave girls became greedy, no wonder nothing would please them and no wonder the Emir had got rid of them all!

At last, Emir Sky grew weary of the same thing happening over and over.

He retired to his palace by the river and told his chief servant "Bring no more slave girls, Thoren. They always end up greedy and rude, no matter how they were in the beginning."

So once more, Emir Sky was alone. He would spend his time by the riverside, a melancholic look in his eyes as he dreamed of a patient and loving wife.

One morning, Thoren burst into the Emir's Breakfast room, face alight with excitement and shouted "I've found her! I've found her, My Lord!"

Emir Sky looked at him with muted irritation, he did not like so much noise to be made in the mornings.

"You have found whom, Thoren?"

The chief servant looked ready to burst with happiness.

"The perfect girl, Emir Sky." He said with a bow.

The Emir munched on his date cake and sipped some chamomile tea, looking unimpressed.

"Who is she?" He asked.

"She comes from a slave caravan that hails from Domino," said the chief servant, calming down somewhat, "Her eyes are like a cerulean sea and her skin is that of a peach, she can sing, dance, recite poetry and play the guitar. Her hair is like fire, yet she has the sweetest of tempers, her name is Bloom."

The Emir lay back on his pillows wearily. "I don't want anyone," he said while rinsing his hands in rosewater, "I doubt that she will be any different from the other girls."

"Please, Your Majesty, consider her, just this time, this last time." He cried desperately, for he truly just wanted to see his Emir happy, whatever the cost.

"All right, all right." he mumbled, drying his hands on a silken cloth, "But if this woman turns out like the rest, this will be the last time that I take your advice."

So the merchant named Knut was summoned at once, the girl by his side. Everything the chief servant had said was true. Her hair was a fiery red and her eyes were like the sea, she stood quietly next to the large merchant and bowed politely toward Emir Sky.

As soon as the Emir clapped eyes on her, he sat up a little straighter, suddenly a little more interested in the prospect of taking her in.

"I will take her." He said resolutely.

The large man fumbled nervously with his fingers before replying, "I'm sorry, Majesty, but I can't give her away."

"And why not?" Asked Emir Sky, brows raised.

"The red haired beauty that you desire has been bought by all the Kings of the Orient. Each time I sold her, she was returned to me mere days later," the merchant explained, "And they would never say why."

The Emir leaned forward, most certainly intrigued by the mysterious knowledge. "I shall take her anyway," He declared, throwing a purse of gold coins towards the baffled ogre of a man,"I welcome challenges."

Days passed and Knut waited for the inevitable return of the red haired girl, but she never came, the Emir didn't send her back, even after several weeks. Finally, tired of waiting, the merchant left the town, praying that she had passed the test.

The girl named Bloom had indeed charmed Emir Sky in every way, whether she danced, sang or played, she would always do so with perfect form. She worked like a slave but behaved like a Queen: patient, kind and modest. The sly words of the evil Diaspro went unheard by the girl. She never asked for money, jewels or land, but followed the Emir like his shadow, ever faithful and quiet.

The Emir was completely conquered by Bloom's kindness and beauty and proposed to her mere months after meeting her. The court could not believe it. Then, to everyone's surprise, the girl politely refused Sky's request. They were stunned. "How _dare_ she say 'No' to our Emir," They whispered to one another, "Who does she think she is?" The court were further stunned when the Emir didn't get angry and instead invited the slave girl to a candlelit dinner by the riverside, to which she accepted.

That evening, after an exquisite meal and listening to the birds enchanting songs, Emir Sky turned to Bloom and said, "Dearest Bloom, tell me, why did you refuse to marry me?" The girl blushed under her veil and answered, "My Lord, you are my Emir and Master, but I am unable to tell you the truth."

The Emir argued "The truth must never be hidden." He took her hand gently, "Let me tell you a story."

* * *

Once, there was a great King called Hagen, who had a lovely wife named Faragonda and a single son. Hagen had everything: fame, wisdom and riches. But alas, his only son was born crippled in hand and foot, unable to lift a slice of bread to his mouth nor take a single step without help.

"Oh Hagen," Said Faragonda, "We both have perfectly formed hands and feet. Why is our son so crippled? Something must be done. I beg you, dear husband, to pray for guidance."

So King Hagen prayed with all his heart, begging for a guide to the answer. That night, as King Hagen slept, an angel appeared in his dream, clothed in yellow, and he said, "My name is Nex, I have heard your prayers and I come to guide you. If you and Faragonda were to speak the truth to each other, your son would be cured."

The next morning, Hagen hurried to his wife and said, "My dearest, all is clear. The cure will happen if we speak the truth to each other." Faragonda was surprised, "The truth, what truth?" she asked.

"The truth that we have hidden from each other so long." Hagen answered patiently.

Faragonda took a breath, summoned all her courage, and said, "The truth, My King, is that you are a wonderful husband and King who is loved and respected by all, but whenever I see a handsome man, my heart beats a little faster and I start wishing that he were my husband instead of you."

As soon as the truth was spoken, the crippled prince stretched out his arms and grasped his mother's hand weakly. "Look, mother! I can hold your hand, now!"

King Hagen was so overjoyed by the miracle, that he couldn't find it in his heart to be angry with his wife. Instead, he summoned his own courage in turn, bowed his head and revealed his own secret, "When people come to me for wisdom and guidance, the first thing I do is look at the gift they carry in their hands. I feel ashamed for my greed when the heavens have blessed me beyond belief, but I cannot help myself."

Once Hagen had finished speaking, the prince stood on his feet and cried out in joy, "Look, father! I can walk, I don't need crutches anymore!"

Hagen and Faragonda embraced each other and their son with tears in their eyes and joyful smiles on their faces, and so they both promised that from then on, no secrets would be kept between them, no matter how hard it would be to tell the truth at first.

* * *

Emir Sky finished his story, looked the slave girl in the eyes and said, "If Hagen and Faragonda could tell each other the truth, so can we." Bloom looked at the Emir's face and saw only kindness and concern, so she decided to trust him for a secret shared is a secret that's easier to bear.

"If I tell you my secret, Your Majesty," she said shyly, "will you tell me why so many girls before me have come and gone, yet you have never given your heart to them?"

"Tell me yours first, my love, then I shall tell you mine." The Emir promised.

"My secret, Emir Sky, is a sad one. All the men in my family die at childbirth. That is why I made a vow never to marry, so I could live single and without worry."

"Your secret is sad indeed," the Emir replied, "but it sleeps safely in my heart."

"I have told you my secret," the slave girl said, "Now it is your turn to speak the truth. Why have thousands of slave girls come and gone yet I have remained longer than any of them?"

"When I was born, those who studied the stars and planets to draw the maps to people's fates and hearts had told me that I should never marry, for if I did I would spend my life fighting with my wife. Many women like you have been brought to me in hopes that one of them would be the one meant to be my queen, but as soon as she laid her eyes upon splendor and wealth she became selfish and greedy. You alone, have remained pure of heart, kind, modest and gentle. You alone, shall be my Queen." Emir Sky declared, kissing Bloom's hands.

"Your words are music to my soul, Sky," she replied "Let us promise each other, with the rising sun as our witness, that the truth shall be our fortress, so that what we fear may never come to pass."

"Come here, my chosen one, take off your silken veil so that I may admire your beauty. For no Emir before me has been blessed with a companion as precious as you."

The sun showered its golden rays on Emir Sky and his bride, Bloom, who embraced and kissed and promised to always keep the truth in their marriage as a guide.

* * *

 **Yellow is the colour that makes people happy**

 **It is the colour of saffron, joy, gold and good advice**

 **The sun is like a golden ball and the wheat in the summer is yellow**

 **Pears, lemons and apples are yellow**

 **And so is white wine in a golden cup**

 **But the truth is more precious than gold and so is trust**


	3. The Lovesick Hermit

**The Lovesick Hermit**

 _Told on Monday by the Arabian Princess in the green Pavilion of the Moon_

* * *

In a kingdom far away, there lived a young man, who was as sweet as honey and as pure and kind as a dove, named Timmy. Timmy lived alone, growing his own small garden of fruits and vegetables, which he would eat from and occasionally sell at the local market.

He rarely saw anyone. Twice a year he would take the produce of his small inch of land to the busy marketplace, set them in baskets and wait for someone to buy. Even then he rarely talked, opting to only smile kindly when someone put money into his skinny hand instead.

His life was simple, never being educated beyond basic reading and speech made it this way, he never needed to think about what finery and land he should buy or what to pay to servants he didn't have. He was able to get enough food on his table to live a fairly good life and Timmy was content with the way things were.

But that all changed, when one day, one particular customer stood out to him.

One day, as he sat by his baskets of fruit, a small woman dressed in light purple came to buy some fruit, and with the aid of a gentle breeze, her veil was lifted off her face for but a second and Timmy caught sight of a beautiful face. Blue-green almond shaped eyes boring into his own hazel ones and her lips were the colour of apples.

His heart beat faster and his breath fell short. "What is happening to me?" he asked himself with shock, "Is this is this what people call love?"

Timmy brushed the thought away like a bothersome fly and smiled at the lovely woman. But like a persistent wasp, the image of the lovely woman kept buzzing around his head.

"I'll have to pack up." He finally decided, "I can't focus like this."

So he went home, had a meagre supper of dry bread and fruit, and went to bed. But he lay awake, unable to banish the beautiful blue-green eyes from his mind. Unable to sleep, he made a decision, "Tomorrow morning, I will go on a journey to clear my soul. This infatuation is getting out of hand."

The morning after that sleepless night, he packed what little he had and set off for Jerusalem, hoping that the holy city of God would provide the clarity he needed.

Many months passed and Timmy had visited the many holy shrines and attended prayer sessions whenever he could to purify his heart. At long last, Timmy felt at peace with himself and the world around him, and felt ready to return home.

On his return journey, Timmy met a man from the town nearby his home, and they decided to travel together. The man talked non-stop, boasting his superior knowledge and criticising the ignorance of the people around him, including poor Timmy.

"What is your name, poor man?" He had started off with.

Timmy ignored the insulting tone in his voice and replied, "My name is Timmy; I'm from the kingdom of Zenith."

"It is said that those who come from Zenith bring good will and fortune," said the man. "But what good to people do you hermits bring?"

Timmy refused to lose his temper to such an aloof man, "Anyone can bring good, rich or poor, so long as they have a good heart."

"I am Jonas, Chief of the learned," said Jonas, ignoring Timmy. "I know all about the stars and the planets. I know the secrets to the heavens, although I have never been so high. Everything that happens in the world, I see as sharply as a sword. I can turn stones into gems, amber into rubies and sand into gold."

"Goodness!" Timmy was appalled by such boastful words, but Jonas took his exclamation as one of awe.

"Tell me, dear hermit," Said Jonas without pause "Why that cloud is as black as smoke but that one is as white as milk?"

"Because that is what they chose to be." replied the hermit.

"Tell me then, why that mountain is higher than its sister?"

"Because that's the way they are." he replied calmly.

"Haven't you heard of condensation or erosion, you ignorant fellow?" Jonas shouted.

"I have learned how to grow fruit, sell produce and overall care for myself. Just because I do not know the wondrous things you do does not make me ignorant."

But nevertheless, Jonas continued to criticise him for lacking knowledge and talked without stopping for a breath, through every desert, town and mountain pass they travelled, Jonas had something to say or a strong opinion on just about every subject he could think of. Before long, poor Timmy's head was bursting with constant chatter and boasting.

Finally, the town came into view from several miles away, and the two travellers decided to rest, for it was a hot day with the sun beating down heavily upon the earth. Timmy and Jonas found a large, sturdy tree with widespread branches that were lush and green against the sky. On the grass below it, there was a jar, buried to the brim and filled with crystal clear water.

"Who could have buried this jar in this place?" Jonas wondered aloud.

"Perhaps a kind soul who was thinking of thirsty travellers?" Timmy theorised.

"Nonsense!" Argued Jonas, "It must be a trap for goats, wild donkeys and gazelles. While the animal drinks, the hunter kills it. Yes that must be it." Jonas concluded, obviously quite proud of his logic.

Timmy sighed; he was honestly getting tired of Jonas' constant need to be right, "Must you always have such unpleasant thoughts?" he asked "If you always think of bad things, they will happen to you. And if you think that everyone else is evil, look at yourself first."

With that, Timmy knelt down next to the jar, took a long drink of the crystal clear water and went to sit under the shade of the tree. Jonas did the same, but instead of retiring under the tree, he proceeded to undress.

"Sir, what are you doing!?" Cried Timmy.

"Just having a wash." He replied simply.

"This water is for drinking and not for washing!" Timmy exclaimed, finally getting angry with Jonas. "How can you spoil for others what you enjoyed yourself? How can anyone drink water that has been dirtied by your sweat?"

Jonas just scoffed and continued to undress. "Move away! I shall do what I please, you ignorant fool!" With these words, he jumped into the huge jar with a loud splash.

Alas, the jar was, in fact, not a jar but a well, and a deep one at that. Moreover, Jonas had no idea how to swim, so, like a stone, he sank and drowned in the dark hole of the well.

Timmy blinked once. Then twice. Then thrice.

It had happened so fast that he had absolutely no time to react, no time to save him. It was true that he didn't like Jonas, but he would have never wished him _dead_. So Timmy shed a few tears for Jonas' soul and shed a few more for the pollution his body would cause the well.

He finished with a prayer and gathered the man's robes to take back to his family. As he was packing away, he came across a small box fastened by a strong lock. Finding the key in the robes inside pocket, he opened the box in hopes that he would find something that could tell him about the dead man's kin. Imagine what he found instead: thousands upon thousands of gold coins from Ancient Egypt!

"Goodness!" Timmy exclaimed with delight. "What treasure! If I were to take this home, everyone would be amazed and wonder how I had become so rich when all I do is sell fruit and stay silent."

But then, a little voice appeared in his head, telling him not to steal a dead man's possessions, stealing never brings happiness to anyone. So he fastened the box again and went along his way back home, feeling weary and old.

All along the way, Timmy argued with the voice in his head that told him, "You have no choice but to be good and honest. One does not betray a friend, especially after he is dead. If you did, what kind of person would you be?"

A long walk later, Timmy had finally reached the town and so he began his search for the home of Jonas, the late chief of the learned. He wandered for hours, showing people the robes of the dead Jonas and asking if they knew where he had lived.

Finally one person answered, "Walk down the street to the end of the road and look for a house that looks like a mansion with a green roof. That is where Jonas lives." So Timmy, carrying Jonas' clothes and gold, walked on until he had found the house that the villager had described and knocked on the door. A small, veiled woman with raspberry hair opened the door and welcomed him.

"What brings you to this home, my good man?" she asked the hermit politely.

"It is a long story, not one to be told on a doorstep." he answered.

"Then please, do come in and give your dusty feet a rest." The lady replied kindly.

She led him to the living room, where a small meal of pistachios and sweet cakes awaited them atop a table surrounded by green silken cushions. Once they had sat down, Timmy told the lady of how he had met Jonas on his journey and how they had travelled together. He mentioned his constant boasting and strong opinions on every topic. Then he finished his tale by telling her how Jonas had met his sad fate when he jumped into the well that he thought was a jar and refused to listen to Timmy's objections about washing in it.

"May I lay at your feet, Jonas' robes and gold?" Timmy asked.

Touched by the young hermit's honesty, the woman revealed her identity. "My name is Tecna, I am Jonas' wife. I know all too well about his tantrums and his aloof, overbearing personality. For years I have prayed for him to change his heart and spare me from his cruel ways, but it seems that fate has decided differently. I am free and I am rich, all because of your honesty."

"Those who think of only gold and forget their friends shall pay a thousand fold, not in this life but the next." With these words, Timmy handed Jonas' box of gold to the woman, who was unable to stop crying at the sight of all the gold that Timmy's honesty had forbidden him to take.

"Never have I met a man as kind or as true as you," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Would you do me the honour of being my husband?"

She didn't wait for him to reply before she removed her veil. There, staring at him, were a pair of blue-green eyes and apple red lips. Timmy was struck dumb, unable to believe his eyes, or his luck. For here, standing before him, was the woman from the market, the one whom he had tried to run away from.

Many different thoughts and emotions came in crashing waves at once. At that moment, feelings of joy, fear and confusion were mixed inside of his head.

"Decisions, decisions," He thought to himself, "I must make one." How could he go back to being a simple hermit when fate was offering him such a lovely bride to be his companion for life - someone to love, cherish and grow old with?

Finally, the fear of dying alone won.

Having reached his decision, Timmy suddenly felt happier and younger than he'd felt in years.

"He who has found the woman of his dreams is a lucky man, indeed." He said, kissing Tecna's hand. "I have longed to meet you since the day I saw your face at my fruit stand so long ago. Your eyes have haunted my mind and I have long dreamed of kissing your lips."

Tecna blushed shyly, "You can kiss them now, if you want."

So, for the first time in his life, Timmy kissed a woman's lips. He felt as if he were growing wings and flying away to paradise. He had been content with life before, but now he was truly happy, for he had found his angel on earth, at long last.

* * *

 **Green is the colour of new life**

 **It signifies hope and joy for the future**

 **It is the colour worn by the many angels in heaven**

 **It is the favourite colour of children**

 **For it makes their souls happy and their eyes rejoice.**


	4. The Princess of the Fort

**The Princess of the Fort**

 _Told on Tuesday by the Russian princess in the red pavilion of Mars._

* * *

A long time ago in the land of Solaria, there lived a beautiful Princess named Stella. She was as tall as the sky, her face was as pale as the moon, her waist length hair shone like the sun and her eyes sparkled like stars. For her beauty and love of puzzles, she was known throughout the land.

She had read many books on magic, loved to invent riddles to give to her many friends to solve and her passion in life was to find all things hidden.

All the princes of the neighbouring kingdoms wanted to make her their bride. Day and night, they would swarm the palace in their carriages like bees around a hive. Stella, like any princess her age, didn't like the idea of getting married so soon, so in order to escape the princes that sought her hand, she went to hide in a castle built upon a high mountain.

Around it, a huge wall was built, and atop that wall there was a line of warriors, not of flesh and blood, but of stone and iron. Each warrior wielded a powerful sword that was always raised above their heads, ready to strike down upon any intruder that dared cross the wall. It was there that the princess spent her time studying the stars, the sun, the moon and how their positions affected people's moods.

From North to South and East to West, she was known as 'The Princess of the Fort'.

Her mother and father, King Radius and Queen Luna, meanwhile, simply didn't know what to do with their daughter!

"How can we expect to be grandparents if our daughter, who is as lovely as the day, hides herself away in a castle like a precious ring in a box, unwilling to meet any suitor!?" Queen Luna would cry, while King Radius would try to comfort his wife and think of a way to solve this problem.

At last, the King and Queen sent a letter to their daughter, begging her to change her mind.

"Please, please, Stella" it said, "We must see you as a bride before we grow old and die!"

The beautiful princess's heart softened at her parents stricken words, for while she didn't wish to marry, she did love her dear mother and father, and did want to see them happy.

So she took her brush, paints and a canvas, went to the topmost room in the tallest tower of her castle and began to paint. The Princess of the Fortress was a wonderfully talented painter, you see, she could paint portraits and landscapes with ease and she would spend hours in the tower, simply sketching.

She painted a portrait of herself wearing a ruby studded crown and a scarlet dress covered with celestial motifs. When it was finished she sent it to her mother and father, along with the following letter:

* * *

 _Dear Mama and Papa_

 _I love you both very much and I don't want you to be upset, so_

 _here is my suggestion. Hang this portrait by the castle gates and_

 _underneath write: 'Whoever wishes to have my daughter as a_

 _bride must fulfill the following conditions. First of all, he must be_

 _tall, noble and handsome. Secondly, he must fight his way past_

 _the stone and iron guardians that line my walls. Third, he must_

 _find the hidden fortress door and walk through its corridors. And_

 _finally, the prince must solve four riddles that the princess presents_

 _to him. If he is able to give the correct answers, then she will promise_

 _to be his forever. The man who passes the tests shall win her heart_

 _and hand. The man who fails shall, alas, lose his head.'_

 _Your ever loving daughter, Princess Stella_

* * *

The King and Queen sighed and shook their weary heads when they had finished the message. What could a King and Queen do with such a clever but wayward daughter? Alas, they knew that she would not be swayed from her decision, and so they placed the portrait and the conditions upon the palace gates as they had been told to, and waited.

The news spread like a storm on a wild winter's night. Suitors would come from far and wide to test their luck against the tests of the Princess of the Fort. But sadly, one by one, they succumbed to the stone and iron guards and were piled on top of the fortress as a warning to any foolhardy suitors who would try their luck with the princess.

The whole town shivered as their number of young men dwindled, mothers would beg their sons not to look at the painting, for the moment they lay eyes upon the beautiful face they were instantly enchanted, and you know how young men in love rarely listen to reason. For them, it would have been treason not to heed the call of their hearts, so of course they would go to conquer the fortress where the princess was hidden, but each and every time, the poor men would lose their heads instead.

And so, for four years, this was how it went, many handsome men would come to win the hand of the princess and every single one would fail. The Princess of the Fort remained single and the fortress, unconquered.

Then one day, a young knight from a neighbouring Kingdom of Eraklyon, titled 'Sir Brandon the Brave', was visiting in the stead of a great King. He was as handsome as a prince, he was tall, courageous, honest and clever. He passed by the castle during his business and caught sight of the portrait hanging by the castle gates and he, like many other men, was enamoured instantly by the face depicted on the painting.

"Is it possible," Brandon asked himself, "to fall in love with a girl you have never met before?" Brandon brushed the thought away, he was more intelligent than _that_.

But try as he might, he could not forget her glittering eyes, her golden hair, her teasing smile. It was simply impossible. Every day and every evening, he would pass the portrait of the beautiful princess and he would gently blow a kiss to it every single time he saw it. He decided, like the rest of the men before him, to take on the challenge that Princess Stella had decreed.

But he wouldn't do so right away, he had seen the pile of young men laying at the foot of the wall and he had no desire to become the latest addition to it. He had to prepare accordingly, not with just a sword and shield but something more.

"I must consult a magician." He said, "If I am to conquer the challenge that so many had failed, then I will need a plan, a clever one that will surely win me the heart of this Princess."

So the brave knight asked everyone he met if they knew of a local magician that he could meet with. Finally, one stranger told him of an old woman named Griffin who lived on the mountain nearby, who knew all the magical secrets there were to know.

"Just climb the mountain until you find a cave," they said, "Miss Griffin will most likely be at the mouth either praying, chanting or inventing a new spell. If you have any desire to learn the ways of magic, then it is best if you speak to her."

So off he went, following goats and the wind up the side of the mountain, until, after many hours of hiking, he found the mouth of the cave, where the old witch sat.

"Good day to you, young man." she said "What brings you to this place?"

"The desire for the princess brings me here." he answered, "If I am to pass her tests, I will need to learn from the mistakes of the other men and take a new approach to the challenge."

"Then sit down and listen." The knight complied. "Magic is not an easy thing to master. Are you prepared to sit for days on end, learning all the ways to break a spell or make a new one, to suit the one you love?"

"Yes, I am." Brandon replied with no hesitation.

"Then let us begin."

Brandon spent days listening to the wisdom of the witch, Griffin, practising every spell he learned to perfection and reading the old scrolls that would provide everything he needed to know to win the heart of the Princess.

Finally, after seven days and nights spent learning everything he needed, Brandon thanked the witch for her teachings and made his way back to town. There, he donned his red armour, slung a drum over his shoulder and embarked on his quest, telling the people that he was going to take revenge for the thousands of men who had died trying to win the hand of the Princess.

Up to the high fortress he went, keeping in mind all the spells he learned and summoning the spirits within the earth. The valiant knight reached the top of the fortress wall, where was met with the hundreds of stone and iron guards, each holding their mighty swords aloft and advancing. But Brandon didn't even flinch, truly he was 'Sir Brandon the Brave' for a reason!

He called the magic words and the stone warriors swords shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, then once again, he called the magic words and the stone warriors themselves, crumbled to little rocks.

One by one, the guards fell, until only metal shards and rubble was all that was left of them. Having overcome the first obstacle, he began to search for the fortress entrance. To do this, he used the drum he had brought with him instead of his eyes. Every few steps, the knight would bang the drum and listen, until a hollow ring sounded from the back wall of the fortress.

There was a triumphant shout from the knight at this sound. "Aha! This must be where the entrance is hidden! I must dig until I find it." and that's just what he did, the clever man. Dig, dig, dig, he went with his spade for hours on end, until he reached the entrance of the fort.

The moment he opened the door, a servant was there to welcome him with some steaming towels to wash his hands and a hot cup of tea to warm his heart. The princess, who had been following his progress, had sent a message for him. It read:

* * *

 _Dear Sir Brandon_

 _I am an admirer of your skills. You managed to achieve what_

 _a thousand men failed to work out. Congratulations and well done!_

 _There is still one condition for you to fulfil, however. Tomorrow, in_

 _the throne room, you must solve the four riddles I present to you_

 _without aid. If you succeed, my love for you will be complete. I will_

 _happily marry you and be loyal to you forever, for in you, I will have_

 _found an equal._

 _Princess Stella of the Fort_

* * *

With his victory in hand, Brandon returned to the town, where the townspeople gathered at the roadside and threw gold coins, rose petals and rice into his path. Young girls fell in love at first sight and wished that he would marry them instead of the princess. He was welcomed as a true champion.

"Hail to our hero!" they called, "If the king and queen won't let you marry their daughter, we shall dethrone them and make you our king instead." Someone shouted, "Yes, yes!" the crowd responded, "They have been far too lenient with their daughter! They have let her get away with murder countless times!"

"Calm down, my friends," Sir Brandon replied "Let us wait and see what tomorrow brings, for I may guess the answers to her riddles and princess Stella will be mine in the morning."

So the people went on their way, fearing for the knight's fate. Will he succeed and win over the princess? Or will he be condemned to death like all the men before him?

Morning arrived and Sir Brandon donned his red shirt and trousers and on his belt hung a golden sword with a ruby encrusted hilt, made his way to the throne room in the fortress and prepared himself for what was to come. He wasn't worried about the riddles, oh no. He was nervous about finally meeting the beautiful princess face-to-face.

Beautiful she certainly was that day, dressed in crimson silk with golden suns embossed on it, a golden tiara with a large diamond set in that shone like a full moon and a strand of pearls hung around her neck like stars along with a pair of pearl earrings.

Her father, her mother and the whole court had gathered together and were waiting in suspense for the four questions that Stella would ask the man who had bested her so far. Would he or would he not solve the riddles? They wondered. Would this end in a marriage or a funeral?

At last, King Radius stood and looked down upon Brandon, "Sir Brandon, thus far you have managed to overcome all the challenges that have been pitted against you," he said with pride and authority in his voice, "are you prepared to face the final test, and possibly your death?"

Brandon bowed low and replied "Yes Your Highness, I am prepared and I am confident that I can pass this final labor."

"I do hope so..." Murmured Queen Luna under her breath.

"Then let the challenge begin!" King Radius boomed, "Good luck." he tacked on quietly straight after.

The princess, who was hiding behind a curtain, summoned the treasurer of the kingdom and gave him her pearl earrings. "Give these to the knight and bring me back his answer." She commanded.

Brandon was given the two pearls and he scrutinised them closely, weighed them carefully. Finally, he asked the treasurer for three more pearls and when they were brought to him, he said "Give these five pearls to Her Highness."

Princess Stella was very pleased with his answer, she then took a stone and crushed the pearls into a fine powder, mixed it with sugar and once again commanded that it be given to the knight. He lightly sniffed the mixture, put a drop on his finger and tasted it. "Yes, I see what she means..." He muttered "Treasurer, bring me a glass of milk."

The milk was brought and Brandon stirred the mixture into it, making sure there were no lumps, and asked that it be given to the princess.

Stella drank the milk, took a ruby ring off her finger and sent it to Brandon, who immediately put it on the ring finger on his left hand and in exchange, gave her a shiny pearl.

The princess took off her necklace and looked for one that matched, and when she found one the same size, she sent the two pearls once again. Sir Brandon asked for a lucky red bead and a silk thread, then tied the bead and the two pearls together and sent them to Stella.

When she saw what he had answered with, she smiled, hung the thread around her neck and stepped out from behind the curtain.

"Rejoice, everyone!" She called "For I have finally found the man who is able to best me!"

A loud cheer sounded from the court and the king and queen breathed a big sigh of relief, years of worrying finally put to rest.

"We are so glad for you, my dear!" Cried Luna happily.

"Indeed we are," Radius agreed, "But might you be able to tell us what went on between you two?"

His wife nodded in agreement "Old and wise as we may be, your secret messages have eluded us."

The princess laughed a light, tinkling giggle and said, "It's simple really. When I took off my pearl earrings and gave them to him, I was saying: Life is as beautiful as a pearl, but it is as short as two days - as earrings are always a pair. When Brandon added three more pearls, he was answering: I agree that life is short, but it seems longer than two days and seems more like five."

A quiet murmur hummed among the court members before she continued.

"When I ground the pearls into powder and added sugar, I was telling him: life is bitter and sweet at the same time. He agreed with me but said that we all must drink from the bittersweet cup of life, which is why he added milk to the powder and gave it to me to drink. When I had finished drinking the milk, I took the ring from my finger and gave it to him as a way of saying that I accept him as my husband, and when he placed the ring on his own finger, he was telling me that he accepted my offer."

Brows raised and eyes widened as Stella went on.

"When he gave me that pearl, he was saying: You are something very precious and beautiful, Stella, and when I gave him a matching pearl I was saying: You are something precious and beautiful too, Brandon. And finally, when he took the two precious pearls and strung them alongside the lucky red bead, he was telling me: I hope that our marriage will be lucky and when I put the necklace around my neck, I was saying: you are the only one for me."

The court, the king and the queen all looked at each other in amazement. How could anyone figure out the hidden meaning behind the traded objects? But in the end, it didn't matter. King Radius and Queen Luna were so ecstatic over their daughter's happiness, they invited the whole town to the wedding.

Princess Stella and Prince Brandon were as happy as could be together, their marriage lasted their whole lives, filled with love, trust and luck for a long, long time.

* * *

 _ **Red is the colour of precious gems like garnets and rubies**_

 _ **It is the colour that speaks of love and passion**_

 _ **Red is the colour of blood and life and is the colour of healthy cheeks**_

 _ **It is the colour of warm fires, the dawn on the horizon**_

 _ **Red roses are the queens of the garden and are the delight of lovers**_


	5. The Adventure of Young Riven

**The Adventure of Young Riven**

 _Told on Wednesday by the Moroccan Princess in the blue pavilion of Mercury_

* * *

Riven was a young man from Magix, as handsome as the day with hair the colour of dried raspberries and eyes like violets. He was slender like a new moon and was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was popular with his friends and his coffers were full of gold, yet he never seemed to do a stroke of work. Instead, he spent his time going from one party to another.

One night, at one of these particular parties, he had been trying many different kinds of food, wines and games and, feeling flushed from all the excitement and wine, he decided to go for a walk. He walked next to the river, underneath the palm trees that rustled pleasantly in the wind, lost in his own thoughts, wondering to himself.

"Why was I so blessed with riches and beauty when thousands of others live in poverty and misery? What exactly is the purpose of life?" were the kinds of things he asked himself.

He walked further and further away from the crowd without noticing how far away he was getting, lost in thought. Suddenly, he was snapped out of his musings by a shout from a man in the distance, waving at him like a long lost friend. Riven thought, as he drew nearer to this mysterious man, that he must be a late arrival to the party.

He finally came close enough to survey the mystery man, his hair was jet black, his eyes were amber and a friendly smile adorned his youthful looking face.

"Why have you arrived so late my friend?" asked Riven.

"I had urgent business with someone in the town, but the gates were closed when I finally arrived." the man's smile widened "It was too late to go home so I decided to see you instead."

Riven looked at him suspiciously "What kind of business is done at night?" he asked.

The young man's smile never dropped for a second. "The type of business that pays no taxes." he answered, "There is a village chief who wants to sell his sheep half price. If we buy them now and take them to the market tomorrow, we can double the profit without needing to do a thing."

"That sounds like a plan to me!" Replied Riven, the excitement at the prospect of making money so easily overriding his common sense.

The man smiled that little bit more. "Then follow me." He turned and began to walk, Riven trailing behind him.

Now we all know what happens when one follows a stranger, don't we? One gets into trouble sooner or later.

For miles they trekked, Riven slowly getting tired but the stranger showing no sign of wear. They walked further and further away until the city gates began to disappear into the horizon. The Great River, that was supposedly nearby, was nowhere to be seen.

"How much farther to go?" Riven would ask constantly.

"Not much farther, my friend!" the man would reply cheerfully.

Riven asked no other questions, following his so-called friend blindly until the sun rose. He watched it light up the world and turned to the man, preparing to, once again, ask how much further they had to go and if the walk would ever end. But when he looked to where he had stood before, the spot was empty, as if he had been a mirage or a drawing in the sand.

Riven shouted, looked everywhere, even came close to crying - though of course his pride wouldn't allow it - but he was alone, standing in the desert like a lost fawn.

"Was that man real, or was he just a figment of my imagination?" he kept asking himself, as he wandered the desert looking for a sign that could point him homewards, but he could find none.

"I must have been unbelievably drunk last night, to think that the Great River was but a couple of miles away."

For hours he wandered, looking to the horizon for the familiar shape of the city, but alas, he had no such luck. Eventually, physically and emotionally drained, Riven collapsed onto the sand.

"This is the end for me," He whispered wearily, "No one shall ever find me, now."

So he lay in the sand, the sun beating down upon him mercilessly as it rose higher in the sky, unmoving and unresponsive, for without food or water to abate his hunger and quench his thirst, he felt sick and weak.

Finally, as night drew near, the young man shifted and stood, looking around. Only several yards to his right, he spotted a cave that he was sure wasn't there before. To his tired eyes the sparse blades of dry grass surrounding it seemed to wriggle like snakes.

Deciding to take the sudden appearance of the cave as a blessing, Riven dashed past the strangely wriggling grass, into the cave, slumped into a corner and promptly fell asleep, his dreams filled with uneasy images of evil creatures leaping from the darkness to devour him whole.

He slept through the whole night and throughout most of the following day, awakening late in the afternoon to the sound of voices.

Opening one eye, then the other, arms still around his shoulders and looked outside the cave.

Passing outside the mouth of the cave, were a pair of silhouettes, one a man and the other heavily cloaked, heavy bundles laden on their back.

"Stop, dear people!" Shouted Riven, "Can't you see that I am a fellow traveller who has lost his way?"

The two people stopped and turned to him. He approached them and took in their appearance. As said before, one was completely covered by a cloak of dark red, no skin was showing and the slit for his eyes was shrouded by shadows. The other looked much less ominous, dressed in a light blue tunic with white trousers and sandals, his dark hair streaked with grey tied into a braid that hung down his back.

"Who are you?" Asked the cloaked man in a quiet voice.

Steeling himself at the man's unseen stare, Riven answered, "I am Riven the Clever, I have gotten lost in this desert and I need guidance."

The man clad in blue raised a brow in surprise. "Where are you from? And why are you lost?" He asked kindly.

Riven told them his story, of how he was at a party, how he had met the young man with the cheerful smile and how he had been left alone when the young man disappeared.

Once he had finished his tale, the cloaked man said, "Did you not know that this desert that surrounds your city is the play place of demons and ghouls?"

"No, I didn't." Riven answered, trying not to sound sheepish.

The other man nodded in confirmation to his friend's statement and added, "You managed to escape death by a hairs breadth, young Riven! The person you met was none other than Jared, the terror of the desert. He leads unwary people like you to the desert and leaves them to perish at sunrise. You're lucky that I and my friend found you." He smiled warmly "Come with us, we will guide you to your home."

Riven thanked them for their kindness and thanked the Holy Spirit that had sent him a pair of guides to lead him through the desert that supposedly housed thousands of demons.

For miles, the three travellers walked, not stopping for a moment. The two guides were engrossed deeply in a quiet conversation, Riven had tried to listen in on what they were saying but their voices were like whispers of wind in the sand. They walked until the sun rose, then, in the blink of an eye, the couple were gone.

Riven rubbed his eyes, spun in a circle to try and find the cloaked man and his blue clad companion, only to collapse to his knees in exhaustion and despair, for once again, he was all alone in the barren desert.

"Is this some nightmare? Or is this a whole new reality?" and with that Riven fell to his side with a thud and stayed that way for hours. The loud grumbling of his stomach roused him from his weary slumber, demanding his attention.

"Oh be quiet." Riven said "I know, you haven't been filled for a while, I'll look for some food to shut you up."

So Riven spent a good portion of the day digging for roots and eating anything that he could find, climbing from hill to hill and cursing himself for being so blind and lost.

"Why do I keep believing every stranger I meet?" He chided himself, "Maybe I deserve everything that's happening to me..."

The day darkened into night and Riven found a cluster of rocks to sleep beneath, it wasn't very comfortable, but it was better than sleeping out in the open where ghouls and djinns could get to him.

That whole night, Riven's dreams were filled with horrifying creatures dancing around him wildly, tongues of flame leaping from their mouths as they laughed with evil abandon.

* * *

Riven awoke late the morning after, this time to the sound of galloping hooves. He nervously peeked over one of the rocks and looked into the direction of the loud beating of hooves against the sand.

A stout man atop a beautiful chestnut stallion was approaching with a lovely black steed without a rider following suit. The very second the horses sensed his presence, they reared and neighed fearfully, very nearly throwing the rider to the ground.

Once he calmed his horses down, the man looked around, angry that he had been stopped, and caught sight of Riven crouching fearfully behind the rocks.

"Hold, bandit!" The man cried, drawing his sword and pointed it at poor Riven, "One wrong move and you'll lose your head!"

"Please, my lord!" Riven had never needed to beg for anything from anyone, but he threw himself to his knees before the man, pleading for his life, "If you are to kill me, at least allow me to tell you my story, so that you may understand my plight!"

The rider huffed and sheathed his sword, "Oh, very well," he sighed "but be quick about it! I have very important business to attend to."

And so Riven told the man how he had been lured away from a party and left to die and how he had met the two men who had promised to take him home, only to disappear at sunrise without a trace.

Throughout the whole story, the proud looking man stayed silent, a calculating frown on his face as he listened. Only when Riven finished his story did he speak.

"I am Lord Codatora, young Riven," He said with pride in his voice "and I am pleased to inform you that you have not escaped the demons once, but rather, twice!"

Riven's jaw dropped at this news and Codatora nodded to confirm his statement.

"Yes, boy. The two 'travellers' you met were none other than the horrible demon duo: Darkar and Avalon. Had the sun not risen when it had, they would have taken you deep underground and transformed you into a slave or a demon like themselves."

He smirked at Riven, and continued:

"The Holy Spirit must truly wish for your survival, it is unheard of for young men like you to survive this many encounters with demons, especially on your own!"

Codatora's smile disappeared and was replaced by a frown.

"I have a spare mount that you may ride, I will take you to the city and what you will do from there on out is up to you." He held up a hand when Riven attempted to mount the horse, "But not _one word_ , or I will leave you here where the monsters will gobble you up! Understand?"

Riven agreed to these terms all too willingly and the two set off. The promised silence was thick, not one sound came from the two men for the entire ride. Over sand dunes and through mountains they went, until, at nightfall, they reached a plain as flat as the palm of your hand with dry grass dotting the landscape sparsely.

At first, Riven couldn't see or hear anything in the darkness but as time went on and they rode further across the plain, he began to hear the sound of a thousand out-of-tune lutes and the shouts of many people.

"Come this way!" They shouted, "Come dance and drink and eat!"

Straight after these calls sounded, hundreds of torches lit and illuminated the darkened plain.

Riven was sure he had rode into hell.

What he had thought was blackened grass was actually beds of snakes, writhing and snapping. The people holding the torches were horrifying monsters with cloaks of pitch and hats of tar, they had heads of elephants and ox's with horns and tusks and long tongues of flame spewing from their lips. They jumped up and down, tearing up the few plants around them, clapping and dancing, they made such a racket that their voices echoed like cymbals.

The second Riven's horse heard the wild rumpus, it reared and bucked, whinnying loudly. He held on with all his might, for he did not want to be trampled underneath the horse's hooves and the demons horrible feet, even when it began to writhe and dance wildly, he still held on.

Riven looked down at his mount and gaped in horror, his horse was changing! Its head was elongating and splitting into seven, its body was widening and its sleek coat had turned into rough scales. Before long, the beautiful jet black stallion had turned into a mighty seven headed dragon with huge scaly wings!

He cried out in shock and fear when, it too, began to dance wildly. It pranced, it twisted, it whirled and it squirmed like a serpent gone mad, poor Riven clung to its neck with all his strength as he was tossed up, down, left, right and all around without pause.

The mad caper went on all night, Riven was exhausted and terrified the whole night long, until the golden light of the sun gently kissed the hills good morning.

The dragon, the rumpus, everything stopped, then in one fell swoop, Riven was thrown to the ground like a sack of potatoes and the monsters fled into the horizon opposite the sun with abnormal speed.

All was silent for the longest time, Riven lying in the sand as if dead, unmoving and covered in bruises with a throbbing head.

When he finally managed to make himself move, he sat up and looked around; only more desert greeted him.

"Not more sand!" He cried "I've had enough of this gritty white stuff!"

So, Riven stood up, stretched his legs and began to run across the white carpet of sand without pause or falter, only to stop at the first sign of greenery.

A small field lay before him, a babbling stream sparkled in the evening light of the sun. When he saw the stream, Riven threw himself at the crystal clear water, gulping it down and washing himself thoroughly. His tired heart felt young again.

"This is a perfect place to rest my tired feet and weary self!" Thought Riven, "I must find someplace safe to sleep tonight."

Looking around carefully, the young man thanked providence when he caught sight of a small cave, the floor covered in dead leaves that formed a mattress. He tumbled in and snuggled down, like a bird in its nest.

* * *

Riven was awoken suddenly, by a bright light shining in his face. The ray of light was as narrow as a coin on its side but was bright enough to light up the whole cave. He stood and began to look around.

"What could be bringing in such a bright light in the middle of the night?" He wondered.

Riven quickly found that it was simply moonlight pouring through a small hole in the back wall of the cave and became curious, what could be behind the cave wall where the light was shining from? So he began to dig at the soft earth around the hole with his hands until he could push his head through.

Lo and behold, there lay before him, stretching into the distance, was one of the most beautiful gardens he had ever seen! Riven squirmed and struggled until he was able to pull himself through the hole and into the garden.

When he stood at the other side of the hole, he looked around more and drunk in the paradise around him.

Dozens of cypress trees grew tall and strong, with box, palm, apple and pear trees mingling among them. The apples shone like carnelian and the pears glowed like amber. The pomegranates were bursting with ripeness like boxes full of treasure, rows of juicy peaches hung from the trees like a long strand of rubies, the aroma of the bananas was sweeter than honey.

Riven forgot all of his troubles and went around tasting the luscious fruits, eating them quickly in his hunger, stuffing his face, smacking his lips and licking the juice of them. Not exactly how one should act in heaven, is it?

Riven was broken out of his blissful stupor by a loud voice shouting.

"Stop thief! Stop I say!"

From the bushes, and old man appeared, wielding a club and waving it around angrily.

"Who are you? Why are you here? How dare you come into my garden without permission and steal my fruit?"

The shocked and slightly fearful Riven dropped the fruit he was holding and threw himself to his knees.

"My name is Riven, my lord." He said with a quaver in his voice, "I am a stranger, far from home. I got lost in the desert and I'm looking for somewhere to rest"

Seeing the fear and desperation in Riven's eyes, the old man calmed himself and threw the club aside. He sat down in front of Riven and motioned for him to do the same. "Sit, boy" He said kindly, "Tell me what has befallen you."

And so Riven told the old man about his journey, about the smiling man who disappeared at dawn, the two demons disguised as travellers who had promised him salvation but had also disappeared when the sun rose and the stern man named Codatora who had led him into some kind of demons banquet.

When he had finished, the old man placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"I am Saladin, owner of this estate. Give thanks to god Riven, for you have escaped the claws of death not once, not twice but thrice!"

"What was the place that I had escaped from?" Riven asked, shivering at the memory of the demons wild dancing.

The place that surrounds my garden is the land where the demons congregate to have their wild rumpuses. It is as hot as a mine and as bare as an untouched parchment." Saladin's face was very grave, only becoming darker as he continued speaking. "The demons that live there disguise themselves as humans to lead unwary travellers astray and torture them beyond belief. They speak so sweetly that you cannot help but follow them willingly to your death, you think they care but they do not."

Saladin paused for a moment and turned to Riven, looking him dead in the eye.

"All they want is for you to be dead." He finished.

Riven gulped slightly at the stormy look upon the old man's face, which suddenly disappeared and morphed into a sunny smile.

"Rejoice, my boy!" He cried joyfully "For tonight you are reborn!"

"How so, Lord Saladin?" Riven asked, taken aback somewhat by the old man's sudden outburst of glee.

"Because, my dear Riven..." The old man replied with a strange glint in his eyes. "I am going to make you my son and heir!"

Riven wasn't simply taken aback now. He was utterly flabbergasted by Saladin's declaration. "Why do you wish to make _me_ , a man you just met, your heir?" He asked with the shock in his voice totally obvious.

"I have no son of my own," Saladin said, almost sadly. "I am old and I will not be on this world much longer. I need an heir to inherit my home and garden and care for it." He turned to Riven, "You are pure of heart and a good soul, you will take good care of this place. That is why I wish to make you my son."

Riven's heart softened at the old man's wistful tone and after a moments silence, he replied.

"I see that you are a lonely man and wish to live easily knowing that your home will be in safe hands even when you are gone." He took Saladin's withered hand in his own, "I will become your son and look after you and your home."

As soon as Riven spoke those kind words, the old man jumped up as if he had suddenly become decades younger.

"Wonderful!" He cried with unbridled excitement, "We must prepare for your ceremony!" He grabbed Riven's wrist and pulled him up, "We will have a room set up for you and we will allow you to have a bride of your choosing!"

Riven couldn't even speak, he was so shocked, he felt as if he were in some kind of dream as Saladin dragged him along the garden. Then all of a sudden he stopped.

"Ah..." Saladin sounded sheepish "But we do not have a room ready for you, but no fear!" He gestured to a large Sandalwood tree that Riven had never noticed before with a small house built into it.

"You may stay in this house until morning, then a room of your own will be prepared." Saladin released Riven's hand and moved to the foot of the tree, pulling a rope and making a woven ladder descend from the branches.

"It would be best if you went to sleep now, you look ready to faint boy!"

It was true. Now that Riven felt that he wasn't in any danger and the adrenaline from before had ceased, Riven _felt_ ready to faint.

"Well, you go up and get some sleep before sunrise, but remember," He stopped Riven before he went to climb the ladder, "Beware the evil that may lurk here, they will lead you astray if you down your guard for one moment."

"I'll be careful from now on." Riven vowed, "I'm sick and tired of being dragged off into one horrible event after another."

"Very good." Said Saladin, "I will come for you in the morning, do _not_ come down until then. Understand?" Riven agreed to the old man's terms and with that, he disappeared into the trees.

Riven climbed up the rope ladder to the little cabin in the tree and pulled it after him, ready for a quiet night of calm slumber. He ate some bread, drank some water and flopped down onto a small bed. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow, that night, no dreams came to plague him.

* * *

It couldn't have been any longer than an hour when Riven was awoken by the sound of rustling and giggling at the foot of the sandalwood tree he slept in, the window of the hut suddenly filled with flickering light.

Blinking his lilac eyes blearily, Riven rose from his bed and looked out of the window. Seventeen candles were being held aloft by seventeen women, as lovely as brides. Each wore a different dress and wore different gems on their jewellery, all were as pale as milk and had lips like peaches.

Beneath the tree, they spread out carpets worthy of royalty and set out foods and refreshments that made Riven's mouth water. Roast lamb and pomegranate soup sat in the centre with flat bread, grilled fish, guinea-fowl and cakes surrounding them.

Once the women had everything set out and prepared, three women appeared as if from nowhere.

The tallest of them had snowy white hair and wore a long cyan dress with a dark blue cape and blue eyes that pierced like icicles, the woman on her left was dressed in a maroon sleeveless dress and had many bangles around her wrists, her dark indigo hair unbelievably curly, almost frizzed, and woman on the snow-haired queens right was dressed in a deep purple, strapless dress with her dark brown hair gently brushing the ground and her lips the colour of plums.

The three lovely queens sat in the middle of the feast and once they had gotten comfortable, the many other lovely maidens jumped to their feet and began to dance. Like reeds waving in a breeze, their bodies swayed elegantly and their feet beat on the ground, the music and songs they danced to so lovely that the sleeping birds awoke to sing along.

Oh, how Riven wished he could climb down from the tree and join the fun and laughter. But he remembered the old man's words of weak-willed men falling prey to evil demons and stayed in the tree, not taking any chances.

It wasn't easy, mind you. The women's bodies swayed enticingly and when they grew tired, they sat on satin cushions and began to feast on the delicious meal that had been set out, the wonderful smell made his stomach rumble greedily.

While they were eating, the maroon clad queen's head suddenly snapped up, as if she had heard something odd. Then she leaned over to the white haired queen and whispered something to her.

The queen smiled knowingly and nodded.

"Yes sister, I too, sense a human hiding in that tree. I'm sure he would enjoy some company!" The blue clad queen turned to the lady closest to her and said. "Lucy, my dear. Would you mind going over to that tree and asking him if he would join us? Please tell him to hurry, one should not keep ladies waiting"

Without any further convincing, the lady called Lucy stood and glided over to the tree where riven hid and invited him to the feast with a kindly voice.

She herself was a very lovely looking lady, with long hair the colour of a dark forest and dark red lips, even if her face was thin and her cheekbones were a little severe. But, alas none of that mattered.

Riven completely forgot Saladin's warning and jumped down from the tree and went straight to the three queens.

"Greetings, young man." Said the blue clad queen, standing tall. "I am Queen Icy, and these are my sisters." She gestured to the queen in the maroon dress, "Queen Stormy," then she gestured to the queen dressed in purple, "And Queen Darcy." Darcy smiled at Riven and threw him a sultry wink.

"Come, Riven." Said Darcy, who reached out and grabbed his arm, "have a seat and tell us all about yourself!"

Riven, so taken by the lovely queens beauty, didn't even bother to question how she knew his name and plonked himself onto a cushion next to the three queens. There, he was in seventh heaven, eating the most delicious foods and drinking the purest wine, all the while watching the lovely dancers glide and twirl with the wind.

Sometimes, one of the three queens (more often than not, it was the one called Darcy) would turn to him, asking about his life, his home and his dreams, to each he would answer with plenty of boasting and bragging, throwing in as much of his charm as he could for the lovely Darcy, who would smile and laugh at his words.

When he had his fill of wine and food, he turned to the purple clad queen and said "Dearest Darcy, this night was magical and I am glad I was able to share it with you."

Darcy smiled, blushing at his words and replied, "And I, you Sir Riven." Looking deeply into his eyes, she stood and moved a little closer to Riven. "Do you know what would end this night perfectly?" The beautiful queen asked with a low, seductive lilt to her tone.

Everything else seemed to fade away from Riven's sight; the wondrous food, the beautiful women, even the other two queens, who had been smirking through the whole exchange. To Riven, it was just him and the lovely queen Darcy. He too, finally stood and replied, with just as much seductiveness to his voice.

"Oh, I think I do, my gorgeous lady." He smiled his most charming smile and shifted closer still. Riven put his arms around her shoulders and gently leaned down, closing his eyes as he did.

"I wonder what her lips will taste like." He wondered, "Plums? Or perhaps blackberries?"

Alas, it seemed that Riven's luck decided to run out at that exact moment, for just when he was about to touch those deep purple lips with his own, she changed horrifically. Dark tentacles burst from her back, her mouth filled with fangs and her beautiful purple dress melded into her skin to form purple scales, she had turned into an evil demon!

Darcy grabbed hold of poor Riven and began smothering him with kisses, her arms ended in frightful claws instead of hands and her breath stank of rubbish. Riven, terrified of the ugly sight before him, attempted to push her away and begged her to let him go.

"Why should I do that?" The demon queen hissed, "You liked me well enough before!"

The evil queen's sisters - who had also taken their true forms as demons - laughed maniacally as their sister continued to torment Riven until, finally, he fell unconscious with fear, their laughter ringing in his ears like bells.

* * *

Riven awoke with the sunrise to a scene of desolation. Gone was the beautiful garden, replaced with blackened weeds and thorn bushes. The leftovers of the delicious feast were rotten and ant-ridden and the lovely musical instruments were nothing more than a heap of bones.

Riven, tired and broken-hearted, flopped back down onto the sand and refused to move. The old man would definitely never have him as his heir now.

"Why is this happening to me?" He asked the desert desperately, "What does it mean?"

Of course, the desert didn't answer and so, Riven did the only thing he could think to do: He prayed. To whom, he didn't know, he just prayed. He prayed for forgiveness and he prayed for guidance. He prayed for hours, begging for help from above, any help at all.

"You've had a harsh journey, haven't you?"

Riven jumped to his feet in shock at the new voice, whirling around wildly to find the owner. He didn't need to look far, for several meters away, with blue-black hair tied into a set of pigtails and dressed in a robe of sky blue embroidered with gold, a young woman was perched on a rock, looking at him kindly.

Riven stared in shock, where had this mysterious woman appeared from? Was she yet another demon here to kill him?

He wanted to demand answers to those questions, however, the best he could do was a shaky, "W-who are you?"

The strange woman smiled cheekily and replied, "I am known as Musa, I was sent here by he whom you have just prayed to bring your journey to an end."

Riven frowned skeptically at the woman who _claimed_ to be called Musa. He had been tricked multiple times before by those who had said they wanted to help, how did he know that she was not another?

As if she had read his mind, the girl named Musa looked away, looking a little downcast.

"I'm guessing you don't believe me, do you? I'm not really surprised, after all the horrifying things you have been through, I can't blame you for having doubts about my word."

Riven frowned a little more at her words, trying not to fall for her gentle words and said, "If you are here to help me, why didn't you help me earlier and spare me from all the torment?"

This rather important question caused a surprised expression to cross her face fleetingly, but it disappeared quickly, so quickly that had Riven blinked, he would have missed it. She stood up from her seat on the rock and dusted the sand off her robe.

"I didn't help you..." she said slowly, trying to find the best way to articulate her answer, "Because you had a lesson to learn."

Seeming satisfied with her response Musa smiled at Riven, who looked at her incredulously, borderline angry.

"What kind of lesson was so important that I had to suffer for days to learn it!?" He cried furiously, striding towards her and towering over her menacingly. Musa, undisturbed by his display, simply said, "Be careful who you trust."

Riven fell silent in shock at her deadpan statement, which she continued, "If you hadn't been so foolish to follow the complete stranger who had given you an offer that was too good to be true, you wouldn't have had to suffer through this journey, now would you?"

Riven just stared at her in shock, how dare she imply that all of this was his fault?

"There are some people you shouldn't trust, Riven, and it's up to you to make the decision of who you will and won't put your faith in." Musa looked at him seriously, as if expecting something.

"Well then," Riven said lowly, "What if I don't put my faith in you?"

Musa raised a brow, smiled, and stretched out her arms, as if holding two treasures, "You have two options, Riven," She declared, sweeping one hand to gesture to the empty desert. "You can depend on yourself to find your own way out of this accursed wasteland using your own strength. Or..." She offered her other hand to Riven. "You can trust a complete stranger once more, and deal with any potential consequences as they come."

Struck dumb at this grand statement, Riven stared at the offered hand, then at the strange woman who had offered it to him. "In the end, the choice of who to trust and who to reject, is always yours to make." She stared at him expectantly yet patiently, awaiting his answer.

He wasn't sure what to think, his past experiences had told him that no one in this desert could be trusted, while the worn and ragged hope for salvation said that any risk was worth taking if it brought him home.

So, take the hand of the mysterious woman whom he had just met and hope for the best? Or wander the desert and pray for some kind of miracle?

"Die in the desert? Or die trusting someone with my life?" He pondered thoughtfully. Musa hadn't moved and wasn't making any motion of taking her hand back. A moment of deliberation ended with him slowly raising his own hand.

"If she is a demon..." He thought exasperatedly, "Then I'll die either way. I really have nothing to lose."

Taking the soft, pale hand in his large, calloused one, he looked her in the eye silently while she smiled gently and whispered, "Close your eyes and think of home."

He closed his eyes, rolling them as he did, and thought of his manor by the riverside, with the palm trees swaying in the warm wind. He thought of all his friends whom he had left behind at the party and a pang of homesickness he didn't even realise was there hit him hard.

Then he realised that the slender hand in his own was gone and he opened his eyes.

There it was.

Home.

Running towards the riverside manor as if the demons he had met on his adventure were right on his heels, he slammed the gates open, to be met with the sight of all his friends and family wearing black and holding a funeral in his honour.

They rushed towards him joyfully, hugging him tight and demanding to know where he'd been.

"None of you will believe the things I have seen!" Riven said, happier than he had ever been in his life and moved by the loyalty of all the people around him. "I'm so lucky to know that I have so many friends that I can trust."

Smiling, he looked upwards to the sky and murmured softly, "Thank you, thank you so much."

It was a bright and happy day, the sky above donning the brightest blue.

Just like Musa, the beautiful angel who had brought him home.

* * *

 **Blue is the colour of peace and tranquility**

 **It is the colour of the sky, to which we all return to one day**

 **It is the colour of forget-me-nots, blueberries and lapis lazuli**

 **And blue is the colour of the sea and infinity**


	6. The Story of Good and Bad

**The Story of Good and Bad**

 _Told on Thursday by the Chinese Princess in the Brown Pavilion of Jupiter_

* * *

One hot day in Linphea, two young men decided to go on a journey across the desert to the other town. The two men, as different as night and day, were called Helia and Valtor.

Helia was a kind young man with dark hair and eyes with a love for art, poetry and other such fine arts while Valtor was a much more wicked man who had red hair and violet eyes who craved only wealth and fame. The two men, with provisions slung on their backs and water in their bags, set off on their journey.

The journey was long and the desert was hot and Helia, who had underestimated the length of time it would take to cross, had unfortunately drunk all the water he had.

"I'm sure there will be water further on." He would tell himself optimistically.

Meanwhile Valtor, who had known better, had kept aside an extra waterskin, hidden at the very bottom of his pack and being the cruel man he was, he didn't bother to mention this to Helia, even as he was getting weaker and thirstier. Whenever they would stop to sleep, He would secretly drink from the extra waterskin, all the while smirking over his deception.

Helia would keep walking without any complaints, even as his throat dried and his head began to pound and burn with exhaustion and dehydration. At last, he collapsed onto the sand, unable to move.

"I need water, my friend," He said to Valtor weakly, "I don't think I'll be able to last much longer."

Valtor just laughed and replied, "How foolish can be? You honestly believed that you could traverse the desert and find water?" He drew out the extra waterskin and dangled it in front of Helia tauntingly, "There isn't an oasis around every corner, you know!"

With these spiteful words, he uncorked the skin and took a long drink from it.

Helia could only stare in horror as his so-called friend openly drank in front of him without sharing a drop.

"How can you call yourself a friend when you would laugh at my misfortune and refuse to share water with me?"

"Who said we were friends?" answered Valtor, "In this world, it's every man for himself, so says the law of the jungle."

"This is not the jungle and we're not animals." Replied Helia, "Please, I beg of you, let me have some water or I'll die."

"Then die, it's no skin off of my back!" Valtor taunted, drinking some more of the water.

"Look Valtor," Said Helia weakly, "Deep in the pocket of my bag are two rubies the size of cherries, take them and give me some water in exchange."

"I know your tricks!" Valtor answered, "You'd give me your rubies now, but as soon as we reach the town, you'll tell everyone that I had stolen them from you!"

"No! I would never-" Valtor cut Helia off, "No, I don't want your rubies, thanks."

Helia sighed tiredly, his vision beginning to swim, "What do you want, then? I am willing to give."

Valtor snickered and smirked wickedly, "I want two jewels more precious than rubies or diamonds. I want your eyes!"

"My eyes in exchange for water!? You must be joking!"

"Not at all, Helia." he replied, "If you want water, those are my terms."

By the time the sun had set and Valtor had laid down to rest, Helia was tossing and turning in agony, trying to come up with an alternative to his problem. Morning came and Helia was desperate for water. "If I die of thirst, what use will my eyes be? I would rather be blind than dead!"

He then called out to his so-called friend, and said, "Wake up and take your dagger, It seems your heart is colder than ice!"

Valtor had been waiting for this moment all night, he drew out his dagger, held it high above his head, the blade glinting fiercely in the early morning sunlight like the fang of a wolf, then Helia saw no more.

Helia let out a cry, the pain unimaginable. The loss of his sight had been followed by an explosion of agony that suffused his whole face, forcing him to his knees and crumpling into a heap.

Through the ringing in his ears and the sound of his own screams, Helia heard a dark chuckle sound above where he lay. The same kind of chuckle that Valtor made when he had successfully managed to trick someone.

"You should have listened to me, 'friend'," He said with a sneer in his voice, "In this world, it's every man for himself. Idiot!"

And with that, Valtor drank the rest of the water, took Helia's rubies and possessions, spat on him and strode away, laughing at Helia's misfortune.

Helia couldn't believe it! After all he and Valtor had gone through together, he had just left him, blinded and dehydrated, to bleed to death alone in the sweltering heat of the desert! He tried to stand, but fell to the ground almost instantly, he cried for help, but there was no answer. Helia was completely alone.

He groaned in pain, rubbing his forehead into the sand beneath him, unable to walk or see, he lay on the ground and resigned himself to his fate, shuddering breaths and small moans being the only signs of him being alive.

* * *

A throng of Linphean nomads started to set up camp in the twilight, one of them breaking away from the rest with a jug to collect water from a nearby oasis. On her way back, she stopped near some rocks, gently massaging her arms and legs that were aching from the journey. The girl froze, however, when she heard soft moans coming from the other side of the rock, pain-filled and lamenting.

It was Helia! Barely holding on to his last threads of life!

She gasped in shock when she saw him lying on the sand, surrounded by blood and a pair of eyes sitting next to him. Had anyone else seen him, they surely would have died of fright for he almost looked dead!

But the girl, who had only the kindest and loving heart, put down the large jug of water, bent down and turned Helia over. Taking the injured man into her arms, the girl asked, "What ever happened to you, poor man? Who is the monster who did this to you?"

Helia croaked, his breath as faint as a baby's, "W-water, I beg of you! I-I will surely die without water..."

Taking the jug filled to the brim with water, she gently tipped some of it into his mouth, used some of it to wash the blood off his face, then gave him some more. Helia felt as though the Water of Life was being poured into him, his soul revitalizing and his heart feeling alive once again. For the first time since his misfortunes began, his face broke into a crooked smile.

When he had regained a little of his strength, Helia told story of him and his traitorous friend, much to the girls horror. How could anyone be so wicked and heartless?

"We must leave this place." The girl told him gently, once he had finished his tale, "It's dangerous out here after dark."

So, she helped Helia stand, put one arm over her shoulders and led him back to her village. Back at her father's tent, she had a bed prepared for Helia, washed his eyes in a bowl of water and with the gentleness of an angel, put his eyes back into their sockets, binding them with a bandage around his head. Helia was asleep in seconds.

At that moment, the girl's father, the Linphean chief Rollos, appeared at the entrance of the tent to see the sleeping guest with his daughter bending over him.

"My daughter," he exclaimed, "who is this man? What happened to him?"

Rollos listened carefully to his daughter's story of how she had gone to find some water and came across him on her way back in such a terrible state.

"Papa," The girl pleaded, "Is there any way for me to restore his sight to him?"

The chief stroked his chin thoughtfully, "I am not very well versed in the ways of medicine," He admitted, "but perhaps I can summon the village healer to take a look." With that, the chief exited the tent and she was left alone with the sleeping Helia once again.

Moments later, another man entered the tent with a small bag. He was handsome and young-looking, but his eyes had the look of one with a thousand years worth of wisdom. He was the village healer.

He nodded with a smile at the chief's daughter in greeting and started to busy himself with the sleeping Helia.

"Oh, Palladium," she implored him, "You know many things of herbs and spells. Is there a way to help him?"

A moment of silence passed before he replied.

"There is a tree by the oasis you visited this morning. It is thirty feet tall, has leaves like leather and smells like a flower, it's called a sandalwood tree. Its roots are used for oils while its wood is used for precious boxes." He turned to her. "Go to that tree and get me some of its leaves, if I grind them and strain the juice into his wound, it should ease his pain and help recover his sight."

She did as she was told, she went back to the oasis, brought back a bagful of leaves and, after insisting that she do it herself, began to take care of her guest's wounds.

For five days in a row she did this, gathering as many sandalwood leaves as she could, crushing them and straining the juice into his eyes.

Every day, she would replace the bandage on Helia's eyes with a clean one and make him rest and eat to forget the evil that had befallen him, all the while comforting him through his feverish pain.

On the sixth day, Helia awoke to a strange sensation in his eyes, a muffled light trying to break past the lids. He sat up slowly and removed the bandage from his eyes, blinking in the light. For the first time in almost a week, he saw the world with healthy eyes.

"Oh, you're awake!" A gentle voice trilled happily. Helia turned to the tent's entrance, only to have his breath catch in his throat, for standing before him, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Her light brown hair with blonde streaks in the fringe was long and silky and framed a caramel skinned, heart shaped face, she gazed down at him with kind eyes like the sun shining through leaves and knelt down next to him.

"How are you feeling, are you in any pain?" She asked softly with a hand on his forehead. "Y-you're the one who saved my life..." Helia whispered. She nodded in reply, "Yes, my name is Flora. I am the daughter of the Linphean chief, what is your name?"

"Helia." He breathed, still staring at Flora's eyes as if in a trance.

Flora proceeded to explain to Helia what had happened in the past week while Helia was too injured and in pain to remember, how she had found him close to death and nursed him back to health.

After she concluded her story, Helia came to a decision. He approached Rollos and begged to know if there was anything he could do for him and his people to show his gratitude.

"Please," He begged, "Let me repay your kindness in some way." and the Linphean chief demanded the Helia become a protector of his flock of sheep, and ensure that no wolf or man were to steal them.

Many moons passed after this agreement and Helia was quickly accepted as part of the Linphean tribe by the people and the chief himself. He performed his duty as a protector wonderfully, never once expecting any payment for it and, as time passed, he and the beautiful Flora became closer as the days flew by. Helia would recite the poetry he had learned and even some that he had written and would also draw a beautiful picture every so often for her. Flora, on the other hand, would tell Helia stories of the many countries she and her tribe had visited and expressed her love for flowers and for the drawings he made for her.

It wasn't long before the two were completely and undeniably in love with one another.

Two whole years passed since Helia and Flora's fateful meeting when, one day, the chief summoned Helia to his tent.

"My boy," He said with a smile, "You have done much to repay me and you have done your job well, but never once asked for payment."

Rollos pulled out a casket and opened it, revealing hundreds of diamonds, topazes, rubies, sapphires and opals.

"I believe that after all you have done, you deserve a reward. Take whatever you desire, and I will let you keep it wholeheartedly."

Helia stared at the beautiful box in awe, debating on whether or not he should say what he really wanted. Eventually, he replied.

"What I want is not in this box." Rollos raised his brows but Helia continued, "What I want is possibly the most precious jewel you have. This jewel has the most beautiful eyes and the sweetest of tempers, this jewel saved me and my sight. If I cannot have her, I will take nothing"

The chief caught on immediately and his face broke out into a grin. "Well, why didn't you say so?" He laughed joyfully. He and Helia went to Flora herself to ask if she agreed.

"But of course, Papa!" Was her reply, "Isn't it obvious that Helia and I were meant to be? We promise to give you many grandchildren to be your heirs!"

The wedding feast lasted for seven days and seven nights. All the neighbouring tribes were invited, and all of them brought precious gifts for the newlywed couple. They danced and sang and ate until there was no more strength in their feet, no more songs and no more food.

Rollos gave them a large bag of gold, some camels and a few precious carpets. He then bid them farewell and good luck with tears in his eyes, as it was customary for the bride to live with her husband and Helia had decided it was finally time to return home.

On their way out of the camp, they passed by the oasis near where they had first met. The sandalwood tree that had saved his sight was still there, standing tall and proud with its leaves shining in the desert sun.

Helia pulled put two bags and started gathering as many leaves as he could reach.

"I have a feeling," He told his wife, "That we will be needing these in the future."

Several days of travel later, they reached a town where everyone was wringing their hands. "What's the matter dear friends?" He asked anxiously.

"A rich merchant in our town has a daughter named Mirta who suffers from terrible fits." They told him with tears in their eyes. "She shakes and then collapses, lifeless and exhausted. The merchant is so distraught that he never does any business. He spends his days by his daughter's side, summoning one doctor after another, each offering this cure and that, but none have successfully cured the poor girl."

Helia nodded understandingly, and he turned to his wife, "Do you think that the sandalwood leaves would be of use here?" he asked her quietly. "It has always helped me when I had a fever, so I don't see why it wouldn't work with Mirta's ailment." Helia nodded once again and turned back to the people.

"Tell this merchant that there is a man in town who may be able to help her. Not for wealth nor fame, but because it is the right thing to do."

The people were astonished.

"Who is this man?" They asked each other in hushed whispers.

The news reached the merchant with the speed of flames through dry tinder. He immediately requested Helia come to him.

"What is your name, good man?" The bedraggled merchant asked.

"My name is Helia and I believe I have the perfect medicine for your daughter." Replied Helia.

"Many doctors have come to see my daughter and all of them have failed." Said the merchant regretfully. "I hope that your cure will succeed where the rest have failed."

And so, Helia was led to Mirta's bedroom, where he looked down upon the rusty haired girls sleeping face, twitching in pain. Her whole body was trembling and she was moaning softly. Helia promptly pulled out the bag of sandalwood leaves and started grinding them to a fine powder and boiled the powder into a broth. He asked the maid to give it to the merchant's daughter then leave her to rest.

For three days, she drank and slept and on the fourth day, she finally raised her head and said, "Can someone bring me some food? I'm starving."

Mirta's father could hardly believe his ears. His daughter was finally eating! He rushed to her bedside to see her finishing off a large plate of lamb, rice and nuts.

"How are you feeling, my darling?" The merchant asked joyfully.

"As happy as a lark!" She replied just as happily, no signs of any twitching or moaning.

The merchant, overjoyed at his daughter's newly found health, summoned Helia and Flora to personally thank them.

"God bless you, my boy!" He cried, grasping Helia's hands, "You have saved my daughter from a lifetime of suffering, thank you so much!"

"Ah, well, had my wife never taught me the ways of medicine, this would not have been possible."

The merchant turned to Flora and started to thank her profusely, Flora blushing all the while. Despite Helia's modest insistence that they needed no reward, the merchant gave them both more gold and jewels than they could count, enough to make them rich and happy for the rest of their lives.

However, the story does not end here, for we have yet to see what happened to Valtor and as for the second bag of sandalwood leaves, it was still waiting in Helia's pack to be used.

Indeed, its chance soon arose when Helia and Flora finally reached his hometown, which was in a similar state as the last. The king of the town had a powerful minister, a vizier who advised him on all matters. This vizier also had a beautiful daughter named Krystal, who had smallpox when she was very young. This horrible illness had left her completely blind.

Despite not being her father, the king had searched far and wide to find a doctor who could restore the sight of the daughter of his vizier and closest friend. News of Mirta's miraculous recovery reached him and the vizier's ears and Helia was once again summoned.

"My daughter has suffered this ailment for years." he exclaimed, "If you can save the sight of my vizier's daughter," the king added, "you will be well rewarded."

Once again, Helia turned to his wife and whispered, "The sandalwood leaves saved my sight, do you think it will save hers?"

This time, Flora wasn't so sure, "It will be much more difficult, considering that this blindness has been with her so long." But she smiled at him with pride and confidence, "However, I believe that you can do it! I have faith in you, my love."

And so, with his wife's blessing, he took the second bag of sandalwood leaves, crushed them into a powder and added enough water to make a paste. He put it on Krystal's eyes and bandaged them up, then he asked her to rest in bed for three days and three nights. Afterwards, he told her, she would see the beauty of the sunset.

And so it was. On the fourth day, the beautiful girl rose, removed the bandage from her eyes and, with great joy, watched the sun lower in gorgeous shades of orange, red and pink. She was as happy as a child who learned how to read and write.

The vizier and his daughter cried tears of joy upon this miracle and the king sent for Helia and his wife.

"You have managed to do what no other doctor was capable of," the king declared, "As I promised, you shall be rewarded handsomely for your aid." The king, as it turned out, had no son nor daughter to take the throne after he died, so he decreed that Helia be next in line to take the crown. Helia and Flora would live in a palace next to the king's until he was to be crowned.

When the king died and Helia took the throne, the people, in honour of their new king, made banners that said; "Long live the new king, may god bless him and his wife!" Helia ruled wisely, fairly and kindly, loved and revered by all.

One day, Helia saw two men arguing from a palace window. With a start, he recognized one as his former friend, Valtor! He turned to one of his servants and asked them to call Valtor to the palace courtyard.

Valtor stood in the courtyard, mildly concerned at being summoned by the king of all people. When Helia appeared before him, dressed in silk robes and a sparkling crown, Valtor didn't recognise him, and knelt down, apologising for disturbing him.

"What is your name?" Asked Helia

"My name is Oritel." Lied Valtor, "I travel from place to place, selling my goods and bringing good news."

Helia scowled, "Tell me your real name," he demanded, "Lying to the king is not advisable."

"I have no other name." Valtor lied once more.

"You are a liar and a thief!" Helia accused, "and a heartless friend too. Do you not recognise who is before you? I am the man who's eyes you took out and whom you left for dead, stealing everything I had and laughing at my misery. Your name is Valtor and you are the worst kind of person!"

Helia smiled at Valtor's horrified expression.

"But fate is just, here I am; a king, and you; a mere traveller."

Valtor couldn't believe his eyes! Here was the man he thought to have left for dead, more powerful and rich than he could ever hope to be! Valtor threw himself at Helia's feet, begging forgiveness.

"Have mercy on me, great king!" He cried, "I am evil and you are good and true!" Helia was angry at how low Valtor was willing to sink, but he did not have an ounce of wickedness in him and simply had Valtor escorted out to the city gates and ban him from ever returning.

Outside the gates, who else would be passing by but the Linphean chief, Rollos? He saw Valtor being thrown out of the city and asked the guards, "What did this man do to deserve such treatment?"

"He has stolen from our king." They answered.

"Empty your pockets, now!" Rollos ordered and when the wretched man did, what fell out? The two rubies that Valtor had stolen from Helia! He had never sold them, as he had thought they were his lucky stones, however, they proved not to be so when the Linphean chief remembered his son-in-law recounting the tale of a man who stole such rubies, took out his eyes and left him for dead.

Rollos was a fair man but he was also harsh. The desert outside the city was his domain and so, with a heavy swing of his sword, Valtor was no more. He took the rubies and went to Helia to return them.

"You let me stay as one of your own kind and entrusted me with your precious daughter," Helia replied, "these rubies are now yours, step-father."

"Helia," Asked Flora worriedly, "Do you not grieve the loss of your friend?"

Helia sighed and replied, "He was a cruel man who betrayed my trust," He turned to Flora and took her hands, "But I did not wish him dead. If it weren't for him, I never would have met you and I never would have become so rich and happy. I do not feel sorry, but I have a lot to thank him for."

And so, Helia prayed for Valtor's soul to find peace and he continued to rule his kingdom wisely alongside his beautiful wife for many years. Whenever he needed time to himself and to think of a solution to a problem, he would go to the sandalwood tree that saved his sight, gave him his beautiful Flora and all his wealth. He would sit in the shade and pray, thanking it for granting him everything he could have ever desired.

* * *

 ** _Brown is the colour of humility_**

 ** _It represents modesty, truth and stability_**

 ** _Brown is the colour of the earth_**

 ** _And all that comes from the earth is good_**


	7. The Unfortunate Lovers

**_The Unfortunate Lovers_**

 _Told on Friday by the Persian Princess in the White Pavilion of Venus_

* * *

There was once a beautiful garden in the city of Andros, owned by a young but rich and handsome man named Nabu. It was dominated completely by flowers of white: lilies, daisies, roses, tulips and hundreds of others. Nabu loved this garden very much, so much so that he had a wall built around it to protect it from bandits and evil eyes.

Every weekend, he would go and sit in the little summerhouse or take a stroll through the flowers, eating a fruit here, smelling a flower there, or simply resting beneath a tree, enjoying the purity of the day.

One day Nabu was so eager to see his beautiful garden that he skipped his midday prayers and rushed to the hidden sanctuary. However, to his dismay, he found that the door was locked and in his haste, he had left the key at home and the gardener was nowhere to be seen.

Tired and desperate, he banged on the door and shouted for someone to open it, but there was no one to hear or care. Eventually, he gave up and slumped to the ground in defeat, sweating in the midday heat.

For hours Nabu sat in hopes that the gardener would return from wherever they were and let him in, falling in and out of a doze until, suddenly, he heard the sounds of music from over the wall, lutes, harps, voices and sweet love songs.

"Who could possibly have found their way into my garden without permission?" He wondered, standing up and dusting himself off.

With a goal in mind, Nabu started to wander around the walls for a way inside, any way that could allow so many people into his sanctuary.

His search yielded only a small hole the size of his fist, through which he saw a fantastic sight! Through the hole, he saw a dozen maidens in beautiful dresses that danced and played around the fruit trees, whose branches swayed with the rhythm of the music.

"How can I sit here like a stone when such a party lies on the other side of this wall?"

So with all his strength, he jumped up the side of the wall, his fingers barely catching the edge, and pulled himself up and over, but fell directly in front of three maidens guarding the gate.

As soon as they spotted him, the youngest of the girls with short magenta hair, a blue barrette and pink dress squeaked in surprise and jumped behind the other girls, who stepped forward threateningly.

"Halt, thief!" One shouted with... a slight lisp?

"How dare you enter private property? You deserve a good thrashing!" The maiden threatening Nabu was clad in a golden yellow dress and her matching hair in twin tails.

"I am no thief!" He proclaimed indignantly. "I am the owner of this garden, and what are you doing here, yourselves?"

"How come you don't have a key?" The blonde maiden replied, ignoring his own question. "You're either a thief or a spy!"

The argument between the two lasted a long while, the younger girl looked between them nervously before whispering frantically to the third maiden who had long cherry coloured hair with roses entwined in it and clad in an elegant pink dress, who nodded in reply and stepped forward between the blonde girl and Nabu.

"Now let's calm down a moment." She said pacifyingly, "I'm sure he was simply curious and wanted to see the festivities."

This one thought that Nabu looked handsome and pleasant enough to trust and, truthfully, she was bored of guarding the gate and wanted to get back to the party to join the fun.

"Come along," she said, taking Nabu's hand, "I'll take you somewhere where you can watch the dancers and musicians."

Then she giggled and looked back at the other two girls before turning back to him secretively, "And if you like one of them," she whispered cheekily, "I'll bring her to you and you can spend an hour or two together."

And so, the maiden guided Nabu to a hidden balcony in the summerhouse, where he could see everything through a chink in the floor. Directly beneath him was a white marble fountain surrounded by narcissi and jasmine and shining silvery fish swimming in the pure waters. Some maidens dipped their feet in the fountain, playing with the fish and singing songs, all of them laughing and chatting happily.

"Which one should I choose?" Nabu asked himself, "They're all so beautiful and charming!"

Eventually, his eyes clapped upon a dancer next to the fountain. She was dark skinned and dark eyed with long, wavy brown hair, her movements were passionate and full of energy as she danced to the melody her friends played. In comparison, the rest were plain and bland.

The cherry haired maiden returned at that very moment with a knowing smile on her face.

"So..." She drawled, "Whom have you decided to court?"

"The lovely dancer, of course." He replied, never once taking his eyes off the object of his affection.

The maiden smiled, as if she had known long before he said so.

"Then I will bring her to you." and then she left.

Moments later, an unfamiliar maiden sprinted out of the front doors of the summerhouse, short blonde hair flying and her crystal blue eyes alight with excitement. She effortlessly weaved her way around the other girls, never once breaking her stride until she reached the dancer, to which she began to talk in frantic whispers.

The dark haired dancer, despite looking confused and a little surprised, nodded at the blonde maiden's words and followed her back into the summerhouse.

Nabu waited, worrying that perhaps the gorgeous dancer would refuse to see him.

"She is, after all," He whispered to himself, "Worthy of a king."

His fears, however, were put to rest when, once again, the red haired lady appeared, this time flanked by the dancer, and introduced the two.

"What is your name?" Nabu asked.

"Layla." She answered with a smile.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful lady"

Layla blushed slightly at the compliment, meanwhile her friend disappeared out the balcony door to leave them alone in peace, a smug smile adorning her face.

For hours the two talked about this and that and a little of everything. Layla told Nabu that she and the other maidens were pixies that were drawn to places of purity and peace, and that his garden was one of their favourite places to gather. Nabu on the other hand, told her about his garden, the places he had travelled and the many wonderful things he had seen.

"But none," He said, "Quite as wonderful as you."

The two of them had become closer during those few hours, spiritually and physically. They sat together closely, their hands intertwined and their eyes locked on each other.

Nabu gently took Layla's face in his hands and started to move closer to her, Layla smiling and responding in kind. They could feel each other's breath on their faces, their lips about to brush when, suddenly, the balcony collapsed beneath them and they were sent tumbling down, landing with a frightful crash right in front of the other girls.

Imagine how they felt! Embarrassed, naturally, but at least they were unharmed.

Layla quickly stood up and strode towards the others, pretending nothing was wrong and started to dance alongside them. Nabu, meanwhile, slipped out of sight, his face hot with humiliation.

All of a sudden, Nabu heard Layla's voice ring throughout the garden:

 _"True love has no regrets, nor fears_

 _When sharp swords bar their way_

 _True lovers will never feel_

 _Tired, defeated or dismayed."_

Almost immediately, the pink clad maiden appeared next to Nabu, a pitying look on her face.

"Be patient," She said kindly, "Wait until night time, we will send Layla to you then."

And so, Nabu waited for hours on end until the sun set and the night covered the world in its dark velvet.

Layla appeared shortly thereafter, and the two walked towards Nabu's favourite cypress tree and sat beneath it, the soft grass providing a comfortable seat. The two started to chat about this and that and a little of everything, sitting together beneath the tree branches like birds of a feather.

They started to move closer once again, about to kiss, when a wild cat that was perched above them, hoping to pounce on a bird, lost its footing with a yowl and landed directly on top of poor Layla and Nabu. The cat screeched and scratched until the two of them jumped up like jack-in-the-boxes and ran as fast as their feet would allow.

It was the second time they had been interrupted, both were very upset but other than a few minor scratches, they were unhurt.

The lovely Layla returned to her friends once more, downcast, and began to sing again:

 _"Once upon a time there were two young lovers_

 _Who wanted so much to see each other_

 _They tried to meet, day and night_

 _But ended up going their own way_

 _Once it was a mistake, the other time a cat_

 _Who pounced on them as if upon a rat_

 _Young lovers should always take care_

 _When arranging to meet, they must beware."_

Again, Nabu was sought out by the cherry haired maiden, this time followed by a new maiden with pale pink hair and a blue dress who gave the downtrodden man a disapproving look.

"What is wrong with you two?" The new maiden said harshly, earning a scowl from the other, "Why can't you find a quiet place where no one will disturb you?"

"We tried, but we failed," Nabu replied, assuming that the pink clad maiden had told her about it, "We will try one more time."

This time, Nabu brought the beautiful dancer to a cave hidden by a curtain of jasmine and they hid inside, sitting on a bed of rose petals and holding each other close.

This time the couple wasted no time and moved to kiss each other.

But alas, as luck would have it, a family of foxes had taken refuge in the exact same cave and had caught sight of a wolf that was hiding there too. Quick as lightning, the foxes fled, one after the other with the wolf hot on their tails. Right over the two lovers they went, scratching and trampling them in their panic to escape.

Trembling with fear, the young couple jumped up and fled to one end of the garden each. Nabu collapsed and prayed for some kind of guidance. Why was it that every time he tried to kiss his love, something went wrong?

Layla, on the other hand, ran back to her friends with tears in her eyes and told them what had happened.

"Enough is enough!" The maiden in blue ordered, "This man is clearly no good for you" The pink clad maiden attempted to talk some sense into her friend but went unheard."Wherever he took you, there was no peace." Chimed in another maiden with blue and grey streaked hair, "Three times you have tried and every time something bad happened. You need to let him go."

"It's not his fault," Layla pleaded, "Everywhere we go, we're spied upon by evil eyes and beasts!"

"It must be a sign from heaven." A voice cut through the ladies' arguing and someone stepped out from behind a tree. It was Nabu!

"And what sign would that be?" Asked Layla's friends curiously

"To make her my bride." He answered with a smile. "The collapsing balcony, the wild cat and foxes and wolf were brought forth to say 'Wed her! Wed her before you kiss her!'"

And mere days later, they did just that. Nabu and Layla were wed in the beautiful garden, surrounded by jasmine and roses beneath a beautiful cypress tree. The maidens sprinkled the newlyweds' path with petals and rice, for luck, and they all danced together until long past midnight, then they had a feast in honour of the new bride and groom.

After the feast had ended, Nabu and Layla turned to each other and, at long last, they shared a gentle kiss in the candlelight.

And you know what happened?

Not a single sound was heard, not an animal in sight - No foxes, cats or wolves came near them!

"My intuition was right." Murmured Nabu, kissing his bride. "We had to get married first." Layla affirmed with a content smile.

They were happily married for many years after. Every weekend, after their midday prayers, Nabu and Layla would come to the garden and sit beneath the tree from where the cat had fallen. They often wondered whether a cat, a fox or a wolf would ever appear to disturb them in their tranquillity.

But nothing ever did.

* * *

 ** _White is the colour of purity and perfection_**

 ** _It's the colour that people wear when they are on a pilgrimage_**

 ** _On a cloudless night, the moon and stars glow white_**

 ** _It signifies hope and new beginnings_**

 ** _And it is the colour that brides choose to wear_**

* * *

 _And so, the stor_ _ies of the seven wise princesses conclude. I hope that these tales have brought you entertainment and wisdom they brought me, and I will see you in the next fic, see you!_


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